they were running off they’d have the nerve to say they’d even bought them from Fred Comstock at the Bar-S Ranch; and refer the questioners to the lady who has taken the whip hand up at my place. Oh! it’s all a mighty clever game, I can see that plain enough; only it’s a case of ‘heads they win, tails I lose.’ I’m on the wrong side of the fence every time. But something told me I ought to be wandering up this way; and say, Donald, it’s lucky now I didn’t write to Uncle Fred, and give him the least hint about my plans?”
“Luck is no name for it!” exclaimed the other; “it was the finest thing ever happened to you, Adrian. And let me tell you, I feel it in my bones right now that we’re going to kick up a dickens of a row up here by coming just when these same Walkers are playing one of their periodical little sneak games.”
“Perhaps you’re right, Donald; I hope so, anyhow.”
“It’s my impression,” continued the other, “that all the ranchers around here need is for some one to take the bit between their teeth and play leader, when they’ll all jump in, and join in the hunt. These Walkers appear to have terrorized the lot so that every man is afraid to have it known he means to take a stand against the hard crowd. That’s the idea I got from what that puncher said to us yesterday afternoon.”
“But my uncle used to be the leading spirit around here; they all looked to him to do things when there was any need,” remonstrated Adrian.
“Oh, shucks!” laughed Donald, “I’ve seen men that were great hands to boast, and even do things when among their kind, knuckle down, and cringe when they heard their wives speak. And your uncle must have caught a Tartar when he married that Walker widow.”
They had already covered several miles, and were going strong at the time these few remarks were exchanged between the chums. Every now and then one of the two who were in the lead would glance over his shoulder to make sure that Billie had not been left far behind; and the fat chum on such occasions would sing out reassuring words, or else wave a hand at his comrade.
As yet they had not caught even the distant sound of the retreating herd. This might be accounted for in any one of several ways; the cattle had possibly gone further than even Donald surmised; or else they had already been brought to a stand by the rustlers, the flight having reached a section of the country suited to their plans, and doubtless often used for the same purposes as were intended at the present time.
When they chanced upon a bit of soft ground where the thud of their ponies’ hoofs was for the time being stilled almost completely, Donald strained
his hearing in the hope of catching some indication from ahead that would be encouraging.