CHAPTER XI.
GUS HEARS FROM HOME.
Gus spent the two days following his arrival at the rancho in resting; and even at the end of that time he had not fully recovered from the effects of his long, hard ride on horseback. He and Ned passed the time in roaming about the house and grounds, and at every turn Gus found something to interest him. The rancho and everything about it, Uncle John’s manner of living, the appearance, customs and language of the men he met every day—all these were new to Gus, who could have enjoyed himself hugely now if it had not been for two disagreeable reflections which constantly intruded upon him in spite of all he could do to keep them out of his mind. There were cattle-thieves in that country who made a practice of shooting everybody who came in their way, and they had been in that very house not a great while ago. They might come again at any moment, and there might be another fight—and Gus did not like to think of that. He would have been safer in his father’s store than he was in that country, but would he ever be permitted to return to that store after what he had done? On the whole he was sorry that he had come to Texas, and Ned was almost sorry that he had invited him, for Gus didn’t act and talk like the boy he had known in Foxboro’. He was not so jolly and full of life as he used to be.
Mr. Ackerman never asked the visitor if he had left home with his father’s full and free consent. He, no doubt, took it for granted that Gus had talked the matter over with Mr. Robbins, and so said nothing about it. This relieved Ned of a burden of anxiety, and another thing that pleased him was the fact that Gus never asked any questions concerning the hunting adventure which Ned had so graphically described in his first letter.
During these two days nothing was heard of the missing George. The herdsman who had been sent out to make inquiries among the neighbors brought back the information that he had not been able to find any traces of him, and that seemed to settle the matter, so far as Uncle John and Ned were concerned. The two boys seldom spoke of him. They had more important matters to occupy their attention. They talked over old times to their hearts’ content, and Ned told Gus everything of interest that had happened to him since he came to Texas. The story of the stolen horse and the description of Philip’s strange conduct on the night of the fight were so incredible that Gus wouldn’t believe a word until he had seen the bullet holes in the manger and the lumber pile behind the shed had been torn down so that he could see the gold-mounted saddle and bridle. Then he looked bewildered, and, contrary to Ned’s expectation, could suggest nothing more than he had already thought of himself.
“You ought to have given the horse up when the owner came for him,” said he. “You would have made something handsome by it probably.”
“I know that as well as you do,” replied Ned. “But seeing I didn’t do it, how am I going to get myself out of the scrape?”
“I don’t see that you are in any scrape. How far does the man who owns the horse live from here?”
“Fifty or sixty miles.”
“Did you ever see him before that night?”
“I never did.”