The sight of the repeating rifles which all the Broncho Rider Boys carried, and handled as though they knew well how to use the same, filled him with a certain amount of respect; and if he had cherished any hopes of escaping they were kept carefully in restraint.
They had little trouble in getting the herd out of the coulie. The range boys knew just how to go about this sort of business; and when the rustler heard them yelling, and slapping their hats on their chaps as they started the feeding cattle, he knew that they were old hands at driving, even if young in years.
He did his part of the work all right, for he saw that this was the easiest way of getting on the good side of these energetic lads.
The three who were left behind called out, and told their captors they hoped they would not be forgotten in the shuffle; because before now cow-punchers had starved to death, or fallen victims to the hungry wolves that roamed the plains of nights.
Paying no further attention to them the boys chased after the moving herd, soon running along the back trail, with the drivers whooping, and dashing here and there to keep some stray animal from breaking away.
All went well, because both Adrian and Donald
made it a point that one of them keep close enough to the rustler driver to see that he was given no opportunity to escape. Billie’s duty was not so much to drive, as to lead; in other words he had charge of the three cattle ponies belonging to the men who had been left bound in the camp at the mouth of Bittersweet Coulie; and which were to be generously turned over to Corney when they allowed him to depart, along about the middle of the day perhaps.
“I hope it’s before lunch time that they let him go scot free,” Billie was muttering to himself from time to time, as he frowned, and watched the evolutions of the puncher named Corney; possibly Billie had good reason for wishing this, since he happened to know that their rations had reached a rather low ebb by now; and if that enormous eater was invited to sit down with them at noon, and devour at will, what was going to become of those who had a better right to the “grub” than the rustler?
Some two hours after the start they discovered that several riders had headed in their direction. At first the boys were bothered a little, until they made the pleasing discovery that these were the same three friendly cow-punchers whom they had met on the previous day.
A sudden idea flashing into Adrian’s mind, he made signals that he would like to talk with the trio. At that they turned directly, and came galloping