“Jarley Bangs!” exclaimed Fred. “Do you suppose it could be Brassy Bangs’ father?”
“I don’t think so,” answered Gif. “I believe Bangs’ folks live in Wyoming.”
“But this Bangs may be some relative of his,” put in Spouter.
The matter was talked over a while longer, but the boys could learn little further from the foreman.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said Joe Jackson at last. “I’ll put it up to some of the cowboys. They may know more about Bimbel and his outfit and about Jarley Bangs than I do. Bangs has a reputation for being a very queer and miserly man, but that’s about all I can say of him.”
The boys, and even the girls, spent quite a little of their time in the saddle. Both Mary and Martha had learned to ride while at home, using the bridle path in Central Park, so they felt at home when galloping over the plains.
“This outing is going to do Mary a world of good,” confided Mrs. Rover to Mrs. Powell. “She has always been so timid.”
The river in which the boys went fishing and also bathing was a broad, shallow stream which could be forded in many places with ease. So far, however, the lads had remained on their side of the watercourse. But one day Jack proposed that they go off on horseback and do a little exploring on the other side.
“We might ride past the Bimbel place, and also the one Jarley Bangs owns,” said he. “Who knows but what we may catch sight of Bud Haddon and his crowd.”
“We don’t want to get into any trouble with those fellows,” put in Fred quickly.