McGlory had pressed closer to Matt's side. The two chums were now shoulder to shoulder.
"I'm a cowboy myself," cried McGlory, "and if you longhorns have come out prancin' for trouble, I guess we can accommodate you."
But the matter was never brought to an issue. A shrill whistle echoed from the outside. Spearman jumped to his feet.
"That's from one o' our boys," said he. "What's doin'?"
The next moment Spearman knew. A khaki-clad officer appeared in the doorway, covered with the dust of a hard ride. Standing there, for an instant, he surveyed the interior of the shack.
"Cameron!" cried Matt joyfully.
"Whoop-ya!" roared McGlory. "Lieutenant Cameron, of the old U. S. A. Speak to me about that! He's just in time."
"Who's Leftenant Cameron?" snorted Spearman. "I don't know him from Adam."
"Possibly not," answered Cameron, "but, fortunately, I've got a man with me whom you do know. Come in, Roscoe!" called the lieutenant, stepping farther into the room.