"Em" Chunky was interested at once.
"Don't make me say it so many times. It hurts me. I said that Dunk
Tucker has got away. He 'busted' out of the calaboose over at El
Paso some time yesterday morning and he's on the warpath."
"G—-g—-g—-got away?" gasped Chunky.
"Yep, and he's heading in this direction to get even with you fellows for taking him up. What d'ye think of that, Bugs?"
"Oh, help!" groaned the fat boy.
"Is this right?" questioned Tad. "Has Tucker really escaped?"
The Rangers nodded.
"That's what we're here for, to catch him up when he makes connections with his crowd again. I reckon he'll be on the trail of this outfit, first of all, before he joins out with his own outfit. He'll never rest till he puts a bunk of cold lead under the skins of the fellows who got him."
"This is where I—-I get shot again," wailed Stacy. "I knew it. I knew something else would come along to spoil all my fun!"
"No use trying to sleep in this bedlam," cried Captain McKay springing to his feet. "Saddle up. I want to make the Ten-Mile cross-trail before noon. We'll find two men waiting there for orders. Professor, can you get under way at once?"