“You are sure you can get that key?” asked Harding.
“I can try. If he keeps it in his trousers pocket I can get it.”
“That’s all we want you to do. Now remember and hold yourself in a bit. I am afraid of that Thompson. We will have to keep an eye out for him.”
“Are you going to shoot him?” asked Claude in some alarm.
“Not if he behaves himself we won’t; but he does not want to come fooling around while we are in the office. We may not have a chance to speak to you to-morrow, and we want you to bear this in mind: as soon as it comes dark, and everybody on the ranch is asleep, you come out on the porch, and you will find us there.”
“I’ve got to saddle my horse, haven’t I?”
“Yes, you can do that after you find us. We will be out somewhere near the porch, and you can slip in and get the key. That’s all. Now, remember it, and you will know just what you have got to do.”
“Yes, I will remember it,” muttered Claude, as the squawmen walked away. “I must go and get my horse after the ranch has been aroused. That’s a pretty idea! Now I must go and find uncle.”
When Claude reached the porch, he found Carl sitting there in company with his father. Of course they were talking about the incidents that had transpired during the round-up—how this steer had got frightened and made a bee-line for the prairie, and how that one had charged upon Thompson, who narrowly escaped being unhorsed—and they were having a hearty laugh over them. It was not Claude’s intention to say anything to his uncle while Carl was about. He sat down in a chair and waited impatiently for him to go.
“Well, Claude, you seemed to enjoy this round-up a great deal better than you did the one of last year,” said his uncle. “You must have met with some amusing scenes out there, judging by the way you conducted yourself at the table.”