All this while the boys seemed to feel their hearts choking them with burning anxiety. What if after all their precious aeroplane should be injured after so successfully passing through the perils of that long journey! It was like a slap in the face, as Andy termed it.
And it may be readily understood that, when the water with which that end of the long shed had thoroughly drenched the last spark of fire, so that it was safe to enter, they hurried in alongside Uncle Jethro, who was breathing all sorts of bitterness toward the one whose carelessness had brought about this accident, both Frank and his cousin were in a feverish state of suspense.
Eagerly they made the rounds escorted by the equally anxious Buckskin and the other range riders. It was almost pitiful to see how these usually loud voiced fellows now had not a whisper to spare; but just watched the faces of the young aviators, and waited to hear the verdict.
And then, when finally the rounds had been made, and Frank gave it as his opinion that no damage worth mentioning had come about, it seemed as though the very roof of that shed would be fairly lifted from its supports by the volume of the lusty shouts that soared upwards from the leather-lined throats of Buckskin and his companions.
Those who had been slightly burned in fighting the blaze went around showing the red marks with the pride that a warrior might in his scars of battle; and the forlorn chaps who had come off unscathed felt sorry because they had not seen to it that they secured their share of the hall marks of fame when they had the chance.
Each cowboy had to line up and shake hands with Frank and Andy, while he offered congratulations on the lucky outcome of what at one time had threatened to be a national misfortune. And they looked as happy over it as though some rich uncle had suddenly stepped off, leaving them a fortune; or a big cattle ranch, which is the cowboy conception of great good luck.
But Mr. Witherspoon was not so easily satisfied. That fire had not started of its own account. Either some one had been exceedingly careless, criminally so, or else there was a mystery back of its happening; and he meant to know which of the two possibilities was the truth.
So he started an investigation right on the spot, with the half-clad punchers brought up before him one after the other. It was easily proven who had been last at the shed; but this was one of the oldest and most reliable of the force, a man by the name of Steady Matt; and he declared that when he left the new building it was perfectly safe, nor had he seen a single match struck by a cowboy while there—this being one of the little fads of the rancher, who was next door to a crank concerning the careless use of matches about the place.
“Now, the boys, they seem to reckon, Mr. Witherspoon, that it might a-been the work of an outside party; leastwise, that’s what they say,” remarked Buckskin, when the examination seemed about to end, without any one being a bit the wiser.
“Oh! is that so, Buckskin?” ejaculated the rancher, looking immediately interested. “Suppose you tell me, then, what they are talking about. We’ve had our little differences with Major Cloud and his Circle Ranch crowd; but I wouldn’t want to think any man who ever threw a leg over a pony’s back, or snapped a quirt as he rounded up cattle, could be guilty of such a nasty job as trying to burn a neighbor’s buildings.”