“You’ll not have to do much waitin’,” Pop remarked suddenly. “I seen General just over that hill.”
“With dad on him?” Teddy questioned eagerly.
“Nope. Guess he’s up at the ranch house talkin’ to Trummer. General’s been turned out to grass. We’ll beach, an’ walk over.”
“How far?” Bug Eye wanted to know.
“Four miles. Do you good. We can leave the stuff here. Be all right. Trummer is the only man I know who’s got his range in his back yard.”
The canoe was driven ashore, and Teddy leaped out.
“If we hadn’t hit that rock,” he said bitterly, “we could have been here before the rustlers and saved the cows.”
“Mebby,” Pop said laconically. “There’s lots of things to be considered. We’ll see yore dad first, an’ talk later.”
The four set off across country, after having pulled the canoe up out of reach of the water. As they walked, they turned frequently, as though they expected to find the missing cattle. The way was long, but evening brought coolness, and they were not tired when they came in sight of the ranch house.
Jake Trummer’s place was like a hundred others in the state. The low, broad building where the “boss” and his family lived, the high-fenced corral; the bunk-house; and, separated a little from it, the cook house. A few horses were in the corral, and among them Teddy recognized the bronc Nat Raymond usually rode.