Billie could not help thinking that the wanderer seemed to have been hugging himself while he rolled there on the ground, just as though he felt a personal satisfaction in the escape of the boy who had been one of those befriending him on the trail.
If this were really the cause of his hilarity it showed that Mr. Thomas was not without at least some degree of gratitude because of the favors they had bestowed on him.
As the incident seemed closed now, and there were plenty of other things looming up in the near future that demanded attention, Billie cast it out of his mind. He only allowed it to crop up each time his wounded knee gave him a little twinge, as he limped around after Mr. Comstock.
The stockman was soon very busy. He seemed to act like a different man, now that he could feel the presence of his faithful gun at his side whenever he allowed his hand to drop that way.
Billie followed him to the corrals, which he inspected carefully, as though meaning to discover any weakness that might interfere with his plans. Every few minutes the ranchman would shade his
eyes with his hand and look earnestly around in several directions. Billie understood that he was hoping to discover the first signs of the coming herds, which might be only in the shape of a cloud of dust along the horizon.
It was an anxious time, for a great deal depended on getting the stock in where the faithful drovers could guard it, until such time as the danger of a bold raid was past. Mr. Comstock had had so much trouble with the Walker crowd in the past that he would not put anything beyond them nowadays. Men become flushed with success, and even lose their accustomed shrewdness; and while it would seem to be a reckless thing for these rustlers to work in the open, still, acting under the belief that they had a friend at court in the shape of Comstock’s wife, who would restrain him from taking any radical measures looking to resistance; and also knowing that half the force of Bar-S Ranch was virtually ready to side with the raiders, there could be no telling what would happen.
Billie, too, began to cast frequent looks along the distant horizon, in the hope of discovering the first signs that would indicate the coming of his chums, along with the cattle, and the other cow-punchers.
It was almost an hour after his little adventure along the flying machine order that Billie suddenly discovered what he sought.
“They’re coming, Mr. Comstock!” he called,