“What do you say, boys?� Mr. Manley cried, turning to the punchers. “Do we go after ’em? Hey?�
“You bet!� came his answer in a roaring chorus. “Let’s go! Nick, throw that mouth-organ of yours out the window! We got business!�
“All right, boys! On our way!�
There was a rush for the door. Decorations were scattered ruthlessly. Chairs were tossed aside. And where, but a moment before, was a crowd of jostling, happy, overdressed cowpunchers, now stood only Mrs. Manley, Belle, Ethel, Nell and Norine, looks of anxiety on their faces. Even Gus Tripp had gone with the rest.
“Our evening dresses!� Ethel exclaimed mournfully. “We can say good-bye to them, I guess!�
“You may get them back!� Belle insisted. “When dad goes after some one he usually lands him; doesn’t he, Mother?�
Mrs. Manley did not reply. She stood twisting her handkerchief into a tight knot. In her heart was a prayer that her two boys and her husband would come through safely.
Outside, Teddy, Roy, and the others were running for the corral.
“Hold on! Wait a minute!� Mr. Manley called. “We can’t all go! Gus, where in thunder do you think you’re bound for? Come back here! Want to be in bed two days more?�
“Aw, please, boss!� Gus coaxed. “I’m all right, honest! I want to get a crack at the guy who laid me up! Can’t I come, boss?�