Jack, even in the midst of his agitation, could not help laughing at Ralph's earnest tone.
"I wonder what they'd think at Stonefell if they could see us now," he mused. Suddenly he pointed toward the professor, who was angrily shaking a fist at the Southern sky, where the saw-like outline of the Hachetas cut the moonlit horizon.
"And what would his Latin class say if they could see him?"
"That he was all right!" rejoined Ralph, with deep conviction.
Inside the great living room of the ranch house, with its brightly colored rugs on the dark wood floor and walls, and a blaze leaping in its big open hearth, for the night was chilly, the Chinese cook was already setting out a meal, when the boys entered. Mr. Merrill, his brow furrowed with deep thought, was walking up and down. He looked up as his son and Ralph entered, and spoke quickly.
"You boys had better remain at the ranch," he said. "We are not likely to be gone long and——"
He stopped short. The blank faces of the two lads had caused him to break into a broad smile despite the seriousness of his mood.
"Why, why," he said amusedly, "surely you didn't expect to come along?"
"Why, dad, of course. They've taken my Firewater, the rascals, and I've got a personal interest in the thing."
"And I, sir," began Ralph, "I am out here for experience, you know."