"Let's get together, boys," commanded Mr. Phipps, with a sweep of his broad hand. "I've got to get over to Three Mile Crick after lunch, so I reckon we'll hold a confab right now."
The boys hitched their chairs up closer to Mr. Phipps and the lemonade, and when their glasses had been refilled the ranchman continued.
"Mebbe y'all don't know it, but there's been a lot o' devilment goin' on for quite a spell back. We've kep' it dark, hopin' to catch whoever done it, but no chance. There's somethin' or some one raisin' Cain with my sheep. We've missed a lot o' lambs, plumb gone. We've found sheep with pieces o' their backs clean torn out, an' last week I come across a big ram all smashed to bits like he'd been dropped off a cliff.
"Night 'fore last young Morales who has a hut ten mile north of here, hears somethin' doin' and rushes out of his hut. Bein' a Greaser he don't know any better than to yell. Somethin' jabs him in the shoulder and he lets off his sixgun. Then, he swears he heard wings an' was carried up in the air for a minute and was dropped. O' course all that's pure guff—yuh can't believe what a Greaser says nohow. But Jap Fisher, my foreman, finds him yesterday lyin' with his leg broke, a couple hundred yards from the hut."
"Mebbe he wasn't lyin', Mr. Phipps!" broke in Jerry excitedly. "Listen." And he rapidly sketched their adventure of the night before. It was now the turn of Herb and Gray to stare, while Mr. Phipps listened in growing surprise.
"Jehosaphat!" he exclaimed when Jerry finished. "That sure beats me! I figured Morales was doin' a heap o' fabricatin', but he may 'a' told the truth for once. Anyhow, here's what I had in mind. Gray has been fillin' me and Herb up with his Boy Scout stuff, so I want to know why y'all don't get busy? If yuh will, I'll put up for the equipment on condition that yuh get right after what's raisin' thunder with them sheep. You boys have a heap o' time hangin' heavy on your young hands, and yuh might as well be doin' somethin' useful. It'll save me bringin' in a lot o' men from Silver City, an' as far as brain goes yuh'll have 'em beat a mile. How about it?"
Fred caught an appealing glance from Gray, and though he hesitated to put himself forward, he was a loyal scout, and as he had taken a decided liking to the clean-cut New Yorker, he felt obliged to comply with the earnest request Gray had made when they met.
"I think it's bully, Mr. Phipps," Fred gathered courage to say. "Of course I'm new out here an' all that, but I've been in the scouts pretty near three years now and it's done me a heap of good. More fun than a circus too."
"Sure, we'll do it!" cried Dunk. "We'll lay for that Thunder Bird of yours, Carl, eh, Jerry?"
"Bet your life!" answered Jerry fervently.