Little relishing the enforced halt, the cowboys, however, obeyed, some of them dismounting and stretching out in the grass.
Riding a rod or so from the others, Bill, Nails and Sandy eagerly peered through the darkness, listening intently for any sound that should indicate danger.
The two ranch owners, being experienced in the art of scouting, rode to the left into a roll of the plains, one crest of which shut them off from the light. For they were aware that should they ride in its glare they would be seen by whoever was about the fire, and they wished to make sure it was Pete and his men at the pool before disclosing themselves.
But their caution was unnecessary. When they had covered only a little more than half the distance the lowing of cattle broke on their ears.
"That's the Half-Moon outfit, sure enough," declared Snider. And putting spurs to their ponies, the ranch owners galloped straight for the fire.
"Queer we can't see any of the boys," muttered Mr. Wilder in a low voice. "I know they are tired. But, all things considered, one of them at least ought to be on watch if for nothing else than to keep the cattle from breaking away. That they are restless, you can tell from their lowing.
"It's no wonder the raiders were able to cut out my short-horned
Durhams if the boys didn't keep better watch."
His tone showed deep annoyance, and he was on the point of speaking again when a sharp challenge rang out from their left:
"Who goes there?"
Instantly Mr. Wilder's anger vanished as he recognized the voice of his foreman and replied: