“He won’t dare do much when we’re around,” answered Gif. “If he gets too ugly you can clear out and meet us on the way to our place.”
“That’s the talk,” said Randy.
Again there was a discussion, but in the end it was decided that the whole party should lose no time in getting to Jarley Bangs’ ranch. They would explain matters to Brassy’s uncle, and then set out for Songbird Powell’s place.
The campfire was speedily stamped out, and leaping into the saddle, the seven boys set out for the Bangs’ place, Brassy leading the way, with Spouter beside him. It was a wet and dismal ride through the woods, and it is safe to say that Brassy felt every bit as dismal as his surroundings.
“Gee, but I certainly am sorry for him!” whispered Andy to his twin. “He isn’t a fellow that I would cotton to, but he certainly has got himself into a pickle.”
Presently the woods were left behind and they came out on the open prairie. Here the sun shone brightly, and the trail was drying rapidly. They urged their steeds into a gallop, and in a short while came in sight of the Jarley Bangs’ outfit.
As they rode up they saw Jarley Bangs come from the ranch house and move swiftly toward one of the stables where the horses were kept. He was evidently in a hurry and much excited.
“Hello! where have you been?” he demanded of his nephew. “Where did you pick up these chaps?”
“I met ’em during the storm over at Twin Caves,” answered Brassy.
“It’s a wonder you wouldn’t stay around the house once in a while,” grumbled Jarley Bangs. “If you would, maybe I wouldn’t be losing things.”