Those Texans were satisfied at times to go without anything at all in the way of food, or to snatch a bite by checking their mustangs long enough to allow them to receive it, when they were off again; but whenever the opportunity for a “square meal” presented itself, they proved themselves full hands.
Gleeson, who acted as master during the 212 absence of Captain Shirril, mounted his horse and rode out to inspect the herd. He was relieved to find them all in place. Most of them were lying down, drowsily chewing their cuds, but a few had risen and were cropping the grass, which grew quite abundantly in the neighborhood.
While employed in this duty, Ballyhoo cast frequent looks in the direction of Captain Shirril’s home. He expected to see their leader before it was light, but the sun was already showing in the horizon and he was not in sight.
The Texan galloped to the top of the adjoining elevation, from which he could see the low flat building in the distance. Shading his eyes with his hand, he peered long and earnestly, but without catching sight of a horseman galloping toward him.
“It’s very odd,” thought Gleeson, “that he doesn’t show up; something must have taken place. I wonder if those varmints have come back after Baby and I left last night.”
It seemed impossible that anything like this should have occurred, but it was beyond his 213 power to explain the non-appearance of the “boss” on any other theory. He was prompt and energetic, and was more likely to be ahead than behind the time he set for his own appearance at a particular place.
Without giving expression to his fears, he joined the group at the wagon and partook of his breakfast, washing down his food with a cup of delicious steaming coffee. He avoided Avon for a time, because he plainly saw the young man was disturbed; but, when the meal was finished, the remarks became general over the absence of Captain Shirril.
“I’ve just come from the top of the swell,” said Madstone, who had been there since Ballyhoo, “and can’t see anything of him. I ’spose he has overslept himself, because of the flurry last night.”
“I wish I could believe it is nothing worse,” said Avon, walking thoughtfully out to where his mustang stood saddled and bridled.
“Why, what else could it be, Baby?” asked Ballyhoo, repressing his own uneasiness.