"Wa'al, it sounds all right," admitted Bud reluctantly, "but this yer feller's a greaser, boss, and——"
"Oh, I know, Wilson, but after all, what can happen to us? We will be a strong party, and we'll take him along with us. He says he's willing to go."
"Of course, that makes it different," admitted Bud; "but my advice would be to make him ride with a lariat round his neck, so that at the first sign of treachery we can string him up with neatness and dispatch."
"We can't do that," smiled Mr. Merrill, while Bud glared at the Mexican, "but we can have him ride right with us, and then there will be no danger of his playing us false."
"You understand what will happen to you if you ain't on the level with us?" demanded Bud of the Mexican, placing his hands about his own throat with a ferocious and significant expression.
"Si, señor," nodded the Mexican.
"All right, then. That being the case, you can't blame us if anything comes off that don't happen to be on your future schedule of events."
Soon after this conversation the expedition started. Dawn was just breaking as they clattered out from under the cottonwoods that surrounded the ranch house. They were a grim, determined-looking band. On each man's saddle he carried slung before him his rifle, and with the exception of Ralph and the professor, every one of those ten riders was a crack shot. Behind each cow-puncher's cantle was tied a roll of blankets, and besides their lariats each saddle horn held suspended a quart canteen full of water. Two pack animals, selected for their speed, carried a camping outfit and cooking utensils. Complete as was the organization, it had taken little more than half an hour to get it ready for the start.
"Hi-yi!" yelled Jack, bringing down his quirt over his pony's flanks. "It's good to hit the trail and get some action."