There, crossing the stream higher up, and seemingly at a place which the fire had only narrowly missed, were several horsemen. Their steeds appeared exhausted, as though they had had a hard race to escape.
"What outfit is that, fellows?" asked Baldy Johnson. "I don't know of any punchers attached to a ranch that's within this here fire range."
"There isn't any," declared Necktie Harry.
"But where did those cowboys come from?" persisted Baldy.
"They're not cowboys!" declared Necktie Harry, looking to see if his scarf had suffered any from the smoke and cinders. "Did you ever see real cow punchers ride the way they do—like sacks of meal. They're fakes, that's what they are!"
For an instant Baldy stared at the speaker, and then cried:
"That's it! I couldn't understand it before, but I do now. It's all clear!"
"What is?" asked Mr. Pertell, who was still, rather wrought up by the danger into which he had thrown his players.
"Why, about this blaze. I couldn't for the life of me understand how it was it could burn two ways at once. But now I do."
"You mean those fellows set another fire?" asked Bow Backus.