“Fine,” said Cranny, “but I’m glad I’m not aboard. Ha, ha! Just think, Sergeant Howell doesn’t want us to go out huntin’ for adventures.”
“We never have to,” returned Sam, quite truthfully, “for our crowd is always running into them.”
“I do hope this trip will be an exception,” said Dave, with a yawn. “What do you say, Bob?”
“Either way suits me,” laughed the other.
“I’m watchfully waiting for something to start pretty soon,” remarked Dick, laughingly. “Better be prepared, Dave, old chap.”
“Come on, fellows,” cried Cranny.
The boys were soon following an old cattle trail. The hoofs of countless animals, which for years had followed this route to the town, had beaten a path almost as plainly marked in places as though the hand of man had taken part in its making.
“Just think of the thousands and thousands,” said Tom, thoughtfully. “My, mustn’t it take an awful number of cattle to supply the world?”
“The state of Texas does its share,” declared Dave. “Why, in San Antonio County alone, an area as great as Belgium, Holland and Denmark could be tucked away and still there would be plenty of space to spare.”
“Well,” said Cranny, “no wonder everything around here looks so big.”