“You’ll know in a minute,” Cranny shouted back.
With the sunlight playing over them and horses’ trappings and spurs catching and holding myriad gleams of light, the policemen of the plains presented quite an impressive appearance.
Carl Alvin in charge of the detail warmly saluted the boys, and looked inquiringly toward Professor Kent and the photographer, who were now rapidly approaching.
Bob Somers quickly introduced the Easterners, and the Rangers, with the exception of Jim Raulings, greeted them in hearty fashion.
“Sure, you can go along with us,” declared Alvin, after a moment’s conversation. “We’ll be glad to have you.”
“Big Jim,” a zealous, conscientious officer, feared that the advent of so many strangers among them might in some way interfere with their duties. And at present they had a very important assignment, for complaints of the activities of cattle rustlers as well as smugglers were steadily coming in to headquarters.
“I wish them fellers would hike off somewheres else,” he confided in a low tone to Chaney. The other, however, merely shrugged his broad shoulders and grinned.
“Come ahead, men,” came in Carl Alvin’s clear voice.
The restive, mettlesome mustangs, glad to be on the move once more, shot forward at the word of command, and breaking into a loping trot presently carried the riders over another rise which shut from their view the gray, adobe walls of the ancient ranch-house.
The weather was warmer than on the day before and lacked the fresh, keen breeze to temper the heat. The sun shone from a cloudless sky and as it climbed higher and higher all nature became enveloped in a yellowish glare, which, with the clouds of dust kicked up by the ponies’ heels, made the travelers long for a bit of woods and shade.