Bindloss, and those that had gone out with him, returned shortly before noon worn and angry. Emma met them in front of the ranch-house waving her hat and smiling.
“It’s all right,” she cried in answer to a volley of questions about Hippy. “He is sleeping now.”
“Whoo—pe-e-e!” howled the boys.
“Shut up! The man’s asleep!” rebuked Joe Bindloss, getting down from his saddle and stamping about to get the kinks out of his legs, for he had not been out of the saddle in many hours.
At this juncture Grace appeared at the door of the ranch-house and waved a hand at them.
“The lieutenant is awake now and he would like to see you, Mr. Bindloss,” she informed the rancher.
Bindloss limped in, and the cowboys, not to be denied what they were certain would prove to be an interesting interview, flung themselves from their ponies and trooped in. They were crowded about the door of the injured man’s room by the time Joe Bindloss gripped the Overland Rider’s hand.
Hippy sat propped up in bed, his head swathed in bandages, and he grinned at the solemn faces of the cowpunchers.
“I got mine again, fellows. Regular tenderfoot, eh?”
The cowpunchers shook their heads.