By ten minutes before ten o'clock the boys, including Los, were gathered near the porch, their horses all ready.
"Bet yer two bits he's half an hour late," Grumpy growled to no one in particular.
"Take yer," Stubby shouted.
Stubby won the bet, for it was only fifteen minutes later when a cloud of dust was seen and in another ten minutes the small army swept in through the gate. There were, as Jeb had predicted, about twenty in all and the sheriff was riding at the head. He was a middle-sized man of about forty, his face tanned to the shade of a Mexican and he looked very pompous as he rode up to the porch leaving the rest of the men a few yards away.
"All ready?" he shouted in a deep bass voice.
"All set, Skeets," Jeb assured him waving his hand toward the horses. "What's the dope?"
"Dope's all right an' we're goin' ter get 'em this time. I've put up with all I agoin' ter an' I'm jest goin' ter clean that gang up good an' thorough an' show some of the folks 'round here who's who."
"That's the talk, Skeets. That's the kind of sheriff this county needs," Jeb told him.
By this time they were all in the saddle and lost no time in setting out for the hills. The boys brought up the rear and Sue waved them a good-bye from the porch.
"I reckon Jeb had him sized up about right," Jack said in a low tone to Bob as they rode through the gate.