Ned caught his breath, and turned his head quickly away, for fear that the herdsman, who just then happened to be looking his way, might see the expression of delight and triumph that came upon it.
“That’s the best news I ever heard,” thought he. “The Greasers have cleaned George out at last. Serves him right.”
“But we got ‘em all back again, me an’ the settlers did,” continued Zeke.
The exultant smile faded from Ned’s face as quickly as it had appeared. “That’s the worst news I ever heard,” said he to himself. “George often declares that he is the luckiest boy in Texas, and I believe he is. I know I am the unluckiest.”
“You got them all back!” exclaimed Uncle John. “I am very glad to hear it.”
“Yes, we did. The Greasers didn’t get away with nary horn. But I hain’t seed nor heared nothing of George since the night they jumped down on us. I thought mebbe he’d got a trifle outer his reckonin’ an’ come hum to take a fresh start; so I brung the critters nigher in to wait fur him. But seein’ as how he ain’t here—good-by!”
As Zeke said this, he wheeled his horse and rode away at a full gallop, paying no attention to the entreaties and commands to come back that Uncle John shouted after him. He was out of hearing in a moment more, and then the father and son turned and looked at each other.
“What is the meaning of all this, anyhow?” asked Ned, who had not been able to gain a very clear idea of the state of affairs.
“You know as much about it as I do,” answered his father. “George hasn’t been seen since the night his herd was stampeded. That’s all.”
“What are you going to do?”