[CHAPTER XVII.—ADRIAN TAKES THE REINS.]
“Who might these boys be, Fred?”
The woman asked this question with a lofty air, as she arrived close to where the three chums now stood, holding the bridles of their horses.
“This is my nephew, Adrian Sherwood, who as you know, Josie, is the owner of Bar-S Ranch; and these are his friends, Donald Mackay, about whom
he has often written to me, and Billie Winkle,” Mr. Comstock hastened to say, though it could be seen that he had to summon all his resolution to the fore in order to keep his voice firm.
She looked the three over from head to foot, and in particular Adrian. Evidently Mrs. Fred scented trouble, since the young owner of the ranch that was being systematically robbed by her blood relatives had come on the ground. But she was game, and scorned to show the white feather, though she may have suspected that this marked the beginning of the end of the reign of Hatch Walker and his crowd in that favored section.
“I happened to hear something that was said as I came up,” she went on to remark, caustically; “it was about their recovering the cattle that wandered away last night. So you see your fears were useless after all. You always worry over things without any reason, just like an old fool would.”
“But it happened, my dear,” Uncle Fred spoke up, “that in this case the rustlers did carry off the herd; for Adrian and his chums made four of them prisoners, and recovered the cattle at Bittersweet Coulie.”
“What’s that you’re telling me?” she demanded, scornfully; “three half-grown boys capture four husky rustlers. More than likely they found the cattle astray, and are playing a joke on you by telling such a story as this,” and the laugh that accompanied
these words made Billie shiver as though a sudden draught from the Artic regions had struck him in the back.