“No! You boys get ready to haul up!� Mr. Manley answered. “Teddy,� he added, in a lower voice, “I want you to let them pull you up. Oh, yes, I know you can climb it,� he said, interrupting his son’s protest. “But, just for fun, let ’em pull you. They need the exercise.�
He fastened the rope below Teddy’s armpits and yelled to those above to hoist away. Up Teddy went. In a moment he was safe upon the ledge. Then came Mr. Manley’s turn; and with two, tawny, squirming kittens held against his chest he made the ascent as Teddy had done.
The last rays of the sun were sending a shower of gold over the mountains as Roy’s hand clasped Teddy’s in a firm grip, that told, louder than any words, what was in the heart of each. The two boys were together again. Teddy had been saved from what had seemed certain death.
It was too late to look further for the horse thieves, and Mr. Manley gave the word to start for home. Evening was upon them, and as the two brothers rode along through the gathering dusk, side by side, talking in low tones, each had a small, warm kitten cuddled on his saddle.
CHAPTER XII
VISITORS
“Nick, why’n thunder don’t you give that mouth-organ of yourn to Sing Lung an’ let him make soup out of it?� Gus Tripp drawled.
The cowboys, Roy and Teddy among them, were sprawled in lazy attitudes just outside the bunk-house. Several days had passed since they had ridden after the horse thieves—days of fruitless searching for the lost animals.
Nick finished the last, plaintive strains of “Home, Sweet, Home,� and removed the instrument from his lips. Noon mess had just been concluded, and the men were resting a few moments before resuming the work of the ranch.
“Huh?� Nick grunted. “What was that, Gus?�
“I say you ought to give that wind-wailer to Sing Lung to make soup out of.�