During their life on the plains, Teddy and Roy had slept under the stars about as often as under a roof. It was anything but a new experience to them, and yet, to-night, sleep seemed far from them. They lay on their cots, still talking.
“You know the reason Silent was so anxious to come out here?” Roy asked. Then, answering himself: “Oh, that’s right—he did tell you, didn’t he? Well, I’ll bet we never see the two horsemen again.”
“Now, my hunch is just the opposite,” Teddy replied. Turning on his side and reaching down he trailed his fingers through the grass. “I’ve got a feeling we’ll meet them again—and soon.”
Roy made no comment to this. After a moment:
“How about that fellow that peppered away at our toes? We have an enemy there, too?”
“I don’t think so,” Teddy declared. “He’ll forget all about it to-morrow. Me, I’d be willing to let it slide. Aren’t you?”
“Might as well.” Quiet now, except for the sounds of the night—a gentle wind rustling the trees, the insects grating out their songs, the stream gurgling in the distance.
“Wonder how Jerry Decker’s coming along,” Teddy said finally.
“And I wonder if Belle is at the 8 X 8,” said Roy. “If that doctor is still visiting Decker, she’ll sure be on hand.”
“And how she likes to be kidded—not!” Teddy laughed. “Anyway, I still have to catch her at a loss for a come-back. Say, Roy, it was mighty fine of dad to let us leave the ranch with so many of the hands gone.”