But Billie was not satisfied. He leaned over and tried to talk to Donald, but he was fast asleep.
"I think I'll go on a little scouting expedition," he muttered. "I need some exercise."
He arose, stretched himself and walked slowly toward the door, which stood wide open.
"I wonder where the guard is?" he thought. "It's mighty funny he'd go and leave the coach like this."
He stepped on to the coach ahead. The same condition existed.
Billie's curiosity got the best of him and he jumped out onto the ground. It was pitch dark, but he had not advanced more than twenty steps before he discovered groups of men seated upon the grass. A second glance convinced him they were armed.
He drew back and stood beside the coach, where he thought fast.
"There's one of two things," he soliloquized. "We are either prisoners or else we are being guarded against an expected attack. Whichever it is, this is no time for the Broncho Rider Boys to be asleep. I'll go and tell the others."
He started to climb onto the car, but a guard appeared on the platform and ordered him away at the point of his bayonet.
"I'm a passenger," explained Billie.