"How can we defend ourselves then?" asked Frank.
"I guess we'll have to depend on Mr. Claxton and his cowboys to look after us," said Sammy, dolefully. "Still," he added hopefully, "if our folks won't give us guns at the start there's a chance to get 'em from some one that's been killed in a scrimmage. Or we may run across some place where outlaws have hidden 'em. There's lots of such places out there, and if we only have a little luck we're likely to find one."
"If," sniffed Frank.
"Some more of Sammy's mystery stuff," mocked Bob.
"All right," said Sammy, "you fellows just keep on with your knocks. When we all get rich you'll be glad enough to say that you were chums with me."
"We're glad enough to say that now, even before you've found any treasure, aren't we, Bob?" said Frank.
"You said it!" agreed Bob, emphatically.
Sammy's ruffled feathers were smoothed down at once.
"That's all right, fellows," he beamed. "But now about those guns we were talking of. I'd like to know really whether our folks will let us have 'em at the start, or whether we'll have to depend on picking them up after we get out there."
"Suppose we get Bob to ask his father right now," suggested Frank. "He's right in the other room, and if we find out the way he looks at it, we can feel pretty sure that our fathers will feel the same way about it. And you're already older—a little—than when you asked for that rifle, Sammy."