“I should say so!” declared Cranny, enthusiastically.
“Yes siree,” said Tom.
“We’re off on scoutin’ expeditions all the time,” explained Raulings. “An’ that means roughin’ it enough to suit anybody. This here one——” The Ranger stopped suddenly, his eyes roved in the direction of the captain; then, seeing no movement on the latter’s part he resumed in a lower tone, “An’ this here one——”
“Oh, pshaw! Man—there isn’t any secret about it,” interrupted Stovall, impatiently. “Speak up!”
“Yes; fire away!” urged Cranny, the flashing light which so often came into his eyes now strongly in evidence.
“Wal, rustlers have started up work ag’in! Cattle is gettin’ stole right an’ left.”
“Rustlers!” broke in Tom, interestedly.
“Yes. An’ the job o’ this here bunch o’ Texas Rangers is to ketch them fellers or run ’em out o’ the state,” declared Stovall. The lines on his youthful face became hard and stern. “The ranchmen are mighty hot about it, too. There’s Colonel Sylvester of the ‘Eagle Pass’ Ranch—some o’ his stock is missin’ an’——”
Cranny Beaumont rose to his feet.
“Fellows!” he exclaimed impressively. “I wonder if we’re going to run into any excitement!”