As they drew closer to the hills, Ned began to calculate just about how many miles they would have to drive the herd once they managed to round it up and get it on the run for home. He knew from what he had been told that what had taken them not more than an hour to cover, as the crow flies, would mean at least four times that length of time with the cattle.
Perhaps, they would not be in until midnight had come and gone. And who could say what might not happen in the long interval.
He wondered how far the rustlers were ready to go, in order to run off a herd that had excited their cupidity and, whether in case they happened to come up while the punchers were busily engaged, they might not attempt something like a stampede, hoping to frighten the few cowboys off, when they could make way with the cattle.
“I’m glad we brought our rifles along with us,” Ned was telling himself, as he studied out these things and tried to imagine what it would seem like to actually find himself engaged in a regular battle with cattle thieves.
He urged his pony forward enough to bring him close to Chunky.
“How much further do we have to go, Chunky?” Ned inquired.
“Be there in about ten minutes or so,” came the reply. “Gotter kinder sheer off a bit hereabouts on ’count of them ornery marmots what makes it unsafe for a pony to run over their holes. Been tryin’ to clean this village out a long time, but they seem too smart for the hull lot o’ us. If so be ye wanter practice usin’ a rifle ye’ll find plenty to shoot at in knockin’ these little runts over; and do the stockmen a big favor in the bargin.”
“We’ll remember that,” Ned told him, though he rather fancied that during their stay at Double Cross Ranch he and his three chums would want to do most of their hunting for larger game than poor little harmless prairie dogs.
Jimmy had forged ahead slightly, or rather his impatient and ambitious mount had taken the bit in its mouth and pulled a little harder than usual. It may have been accident, but to Ned it seemed as though Ally Sloper must have some vicious idea in his mind when he suddenly flung his quirt vigorously out, apparently intending to give his own pony a cruel cut, and then struck the calico mount ridden by Jimmy.
Perhaps he thought to create a little excitement if the beast ran away with its rider, during which he might find a chance to slip off unobserved. Ned, as quick as a flash, dug his heels into his own pony, and was alongside Jimmy almost as soon as the spotted beast started to leap wildly forward under the impetus of that blow from the quirt, something he had never stood for in the past.