Ned saw that Ally Sloper was playing his part as though he meant to rehabilitate himself in the good graces of the owners of the ranch after his recent unfortunate break. He even boasted of having wounded at least a couple of the cattle thieves with his fire; though Ned knew only too well that this was untrue, since the other had shot too high for any such damage to follow.
“He’s got his nerve with him, seems like,” Jimmy had remarked, as having been joined by Harry and Jack, he and Ned stood there watching the last of the cattle being driven into the big enclosure that would be patrolled during the remainder of the night, so that nothing could happen to break the corral fence and scatter the inmates over the plain.
“That’s more than Lefty Louie had then,” remarked Jack.
“He went out with your crowd, didn’t he?” Ned asked.
“Went out, yes, but he didn’t come back with us,” replied the other scout.
“Huh! I just thought that sneak would beat it, given half a chance,” said Jimmie.
“One of the first things I did,” Harry spoke up, “after getting in was to hunt around to see if the other three came back; and not a sign can you find of one of the bunch.”
“You mean Coyote Smith, Bob Caruso and Tinplate George?” Ned inquired.
“All slipped away the first chance they got,” Harry continued, in a disgusted voice. “I guess they must have seen that the game was up, and thought they might have to swing from some telegraph pole if the punchers took a notion they’d played fast and loose.”
“Can you blame them?” asked Ned.