"This is an awkward business," he began, with an easy smile; "but I think we'll soon catch the runaways up."
"I hope so," Bob said.
"Oh, it was all my fault, because I'm boss of my gang, you know. I ought to have known better, but a small mob of stray beasts got among ours, and by-and-by there was a stampede. It was dirty-dark last night, and looked like a storm, so there wouldn't have been an ounce of use in following them up."
He flicked his long whip half saucily, half angrily, as he spoke.
"Well, never mind," Bob replied, "we'll have better luck next, I've no doubt."
Away they went now at a swinging trot, and on crossing the creek they met Craig's fellows.
They laid their horses harder at it now, Bob and Archie keeping a bit in the rear, though the latter declared that Tell was pulling like a young steam-engine.
"Why," cried Archie at last, "this beast means to pull my arms out at the shoulders. I always thought I knew how to hold the reins till now."
"They have a queer way with them, those bush-ranging horses," said Bob; "but I reckon you'll get up to them at last."
"If I were to give Tell his head, he would soon be in the van."