Billie was eagerly waiting to hear one of his chums remark that it was time they turned the rustler loose. He was beginning to get uneasy, under the dreadful fear that this dismissal might be delayed so long that they would have to feed the fellow again, and that Billie believed would be a misfortune in many ways.
Finally he saw Adrian beckon the rustler, and head him toward where Billie had the three ponies belonging to the prisoners of Bittersweet Coulie trailing along after him. That could only mean one thing, the sending of Corney about his business, and allowing him to gallop back to release his unfortunate companions.
“Here’s your ponies,” Billie called out, after he had heard Adrian tell the fellow he was at liberty to ride away; “and don’t forget that we treated you white on this trip. I only hope that if ever I have the misfortune to be held a prisoner among your crowd that you’ll see to it I don’t starve; because I always did say there was no death I dreaded
more than going without my regular allowance of grub.”
But nobody was listening to Billie talk. The rustler had taken the bridles of the ponies and without a word turned to gallop away. Once he did turn in his saddle to shake his clenched fist back at the boys, and then immediately duck down until he lay flat along the neck of his mount, half fearing lest one of them answer his challenge with a shot from his rifle.
But such a thing did not occur to any one of the three chums. They were really too glad to see the ugly-faced Corney depart to think of trying to detain him a minute longer than seemed absolutely necessary; and least of all would Billie have put out a restraining hand, because it was nearly noon, and lunch time.
[CHAPTER XIV.—THE LAME PILGRIM ON THE TRAIL.]
“There’s a cowboy riding this way, and seems like he might have come from your place, too, Adrian!” Donald called out, soon after they had let the rustler depart.
“It must be some messenger Uncle Fred’s sending to town, perhaps with a letter to me, telling about this new outrage, and that he’ll just have to
throw up his job here, and clear out, since he’s powerless to help things,” the other suggested; as he watched the lone rider drawing near, evidently more than curious at discovering the lately stampeded bunch of cattle heading back toward the ranch house.