“Hurrah! That’s just what we’ve been looking for,” cried Fred.
Then the boys went outside and sat down on the stoop of the store to read the communications.
“Here comes a fellow tearing along on horseback,” announced Jack, looking up. “He seems in a tremendous hurry.”
The rider had come from a trail which crossed the railroad close to the station. Now he sailed past the Terwilliger store at full speed. He wore a miner’s outfit, and the flap of his broad-brimmed hat flew back in the breeze. In less than a quarter of a minute he was out of sight down a side trail.
“My stars!” ejaculated Fred, leaping to his feet. “Did you recognize that man?”
“It was Tate—the oil man from Texas!” answered Randy.
CHAPTER XXIII
AT LAKE GANSEN
“Are you sure it was Tate?” demanded Andy, who had had his back turned to the rider.
“It certainly was,” answered his twin.