He was a very tall Texan, a man over six feet in height, correspondingly broad, and possessing a pair of stern-looking gray eyes which matched well the stern, determined lines of his face.
The name of Fred Cole, the Texas Ranger, was known and respected all over that section where his activities took him. Absolutely devoid of fear, it was generally conceded that he had been the means of driving more desperate characters from that part of Texas than any other single member of the Ranger force.
Cole, however, was not in a very happy frame of mind these days.
After a long interval of comparative peace, the ranchmen were again suffering at the hands of an outlaw band, the most troublesome which that section west of the Nueches River had known for years. It was apparently a well perfected organization, for stock had recently disappeared in wholesale numbers.
It was naturally inferred that such work could not go on without the assistance of some unscrupulous stockmen, and men were becoming suspicious of one another.
Altogether it was a very bad state of affairs. There was talk of organizing posses; there was even criticism of the Rangers, men who every day of their lives were exposed to grave perils and hardships; and many of whom could show scars, the result of encounters with just the same sort of men that were now giving them so much concern.
Under the circumstances Fred Cole was not in a very good humor, but he neither gave evidence of this, nor surprise when so many boys descended upon his camp. He received them all in a pleasant offhand fashion, as though such visits were a common every-day occurrence; then excusing himself began to talk earnestly with Carl Alvin.
Four other Rangers, however, did not hesitate to express their astonishment, and, as the hut was far too small to accommodate such a large crowd, the lads and Professor Kent and his assistant accompanied the men toward a long shed at the rear, in which a number of horses were stabled. Just outside they paused.
Tom, to whom the rôle of spokesman now always seemed to fall, obliged once more, giving some details of the history and adventures of the “Rambler Club,” which the wondering Rangers listened to with great attention.
“I sure never did hear the beat o’ it!” declared Bart Eagan, some time later. “But say, pards, ain’t ye hungry after all that ride?”