The evaporation from the wet felt as the hot sun struck it kept the fluid within the canteens fairly cool.
“Gee whiz! I just hate to go out into the hot sun again,” declared Walt Phelps, throwing himself down on the ground and luxuriating in the shade.
“Same here, but we’ve got to be pressing forward if we are to go on duty to–night,” declared Jack.
“Thunderation!” fairly shouted Ralph, “do we have to go on duty to–night?”
“Why, yes. You didn’t think we were going to Lagunitas for a vacation, did you?” inquired Jack with a smile.
“N–n–no,” stammered Ralph, looking rather shamefaced, “but I thought we’d have a rest before we started in.”
“I reckon Rangers do their work first and rest afterward. Isn’t that the way, Jack?” asked Walt.
“I guess that’s it,” was the reply. “But let’s go and get the cayuses and saddle up.”
“Well, I suppose what must be, must be,” muttered Ralph, with a groan at the idea of leaving the friendly cottonwoods.