This was the burden of the boy’s thoughts all the rest of the day. He could not make up his mind to any course of action, for he was so stunned and bewildered by what he had heard that he could not think clearly. The only thing he determined upon was, that he would lay the case before Mr. Gilbert, and be governed by his advice. Mr. Gilbert was a wealthy cattle-raiser and a prominent man in the settlement, who had gained his start in life through the assistance of George’s father. He was a firm friend of the family, and the boy knew that he could trust him. Toward his rancho he directed his course, making all the haste he could. He would have been glad to travel all night, but his weary limbs demanded rest, and when it grew dark George was obliged, much against his will, to go into camp. He built a fire in the edge of a belt of post-oaks that ran across his path, and after gathering fuel enough to last all night, he ate a very light supper and sat down to think over the situation. When eight o’clock came he scraped a few leaves together for a bed, and was about to throw himself down upon it, when he was brought to his feet by the clatter of hoofs, which sounded a short distance away.
George seized his haversack and waited with a beating heart for the horsemen, who he knew were approaching his camp, to come in sight. They came a moment later, and to the boy’s intense relief the light from his fire shone not upon silver buttons, gaudy sashes and wide trowsers, but upon a couple of red shirts and slouch hats. With a long-drawn sigh, indicative of the greatest satisfaction, George threw down his haversack and stepped forward to greet the new comers.
“Good-evening, stranger,” said the foremost horseman. “Have you any objections to good company to-night?”
“None whatever,” answered George, readily. “I shall be only too glad to have it, for it is lonely work keeping house all by one’s self.”
“We saw the light of your fire,” said the other, “and as we have got a little out of our reckoning, we made bold to come here, thinking that perhaps you could set us right.”
“I am glad to see you,” answered George; “but I hope you have brought your supper with you, for it is little I can offer you.”
“O, that’s nothing. It is no uncommon thing for ranchemen to go supperless to bed, you know. Where did you stake out your horse, my lad?”
“I haven’t any, sir. He was stampeded when the Greasers stole my cattle, and I haven’t seen him since.”
“Ah! been cleaned out, have you? That’s provoking.”
The man said this in much the same tone of voice he would have used if he had been speaking of an event that was of every-day occurrence. They both listened while George, in accordance with their request, hurriedly related the story of his loss, and then staked out their horses and came back to the fire. George offered them what was left of his supply of provisions, but the ranchemen declined it with thanks, and proceeded to fill their pipes.