“You boys must keep off here!” he ordered, coming toward them. “This is now government property.”
“We’ll get off it in just five minutes,” answered Rob, somewhat abashed at this reception, “but in the meantime I’ve something to tell you of great importance. It hasn’t to do with the Moquis, either,” he added mischievously.
At these words, a great light seemed to break over the officer. In the nattily-uniformed boys before him, it was no wonder he had not sooner recognized the lads he had last seen in tattered, worn, cowboy rig-outs, stained with powder, and worn by a hard chase across the mountains to the Moqui valley.
“Why!” he exclaimed, his manner changing, and both hands extended in a cordial way, “it’s the young broncho busters! Hull-lo, boys! I’m glad to see you again. But what are you doing in this part of the country?”
“We happen to live here,” rejoined Rob demurely, after the first greetings had been exchanged.
“That’s so. You did tell me, I remember now, that you lived here. That must have been your father I saw last night. Very forgetful of me, but I’ve had so much on my mind lately that I’ve slipped up on a lot of things I should have carried a recollection of. We’re carrying out some big experiments here.”
“Which brings us to what we accidentally overheard on our way out here,” exclaimed Rob. “Is there a man named Dugan detailed to duty here?”
“Dugan? Yes—a most capable man—invaluable to me. Why?”
The officer was frankly astonished, and showed his bewilderment.
As may be imagined, his astonishment not only increased, but became mingled with anger, as Rob launched out into a full and detailed account of all they had overheard.