“Oh, yes; there’s several of ’em hereabouts,” answered a cowpuncher.
“Well, then, let’s go to one or two more, fellows,” suggested Tom Clifton. “If Mr. Lawton saw Jed perhaps some other people have, too.”
“Ah! Much good,” approved Thunderbolt. “Sure! Maybe we learn somethings.”
As long as they remained in sight the cowpunchers kept waving their hands in farewell.
“I don’t suppose you chaps feel a bit discouraged even yet,” said Larry, satirically. “I’d call this perseverance and perversity.”
“Oh, we’ve just begun,” chirped Tom.
Another long ride followed. Sometimes the lads traveled over hills; then, again, across the undulating plain, or forded narrow streams. And Larry was as hopelessly mixed on their location as a boy could be. Herds of grazing cattle were often encountered, and left behind.
Even the sanguine, hopeful Tom began to lose his accustomed air of cheerfulness after several ranches had been visited without a scrap of information being gained. Things were not breaking very well, he reflected; and it made him feel angry and disgusted indeed.
“We go some more ranches?” asked Thunderbolt. “Not many mile from Jerry Duncan’s is one. What you say?”
“Don’t ask, but just go,” said Larry. “And when we get through there take a short cut to the next.”