“I can’t understand it,” he mused.
Now the cattlemen were engaged in a most earnest and animated conversation. Frequently voices rose higher. Then, as though arriving at some understanding, the three sprang on their horses, cracked their quirts and were off.
Two rode away in the direction of the open prairie, while the third, the man who had become so angry, wheeled about and headed in Bob’s direction.
The Rambler’s nerves did not forsake him. Lying flat on the ground he contrived to shield his body still more by the aid of the bushes and tall grass which grew around him in profusion. As the hoof-beats of the horse told of the rider’s rapid approach he felt his heart beating faster. Discovery might lead to most unpleasant results. With muscles tense, he was ready to spring to his feet at the first intimation of danger.
But the rider clattered by without seeing the amateur detective.
Then there flashed into Bob Somers’ mind a possible explanation of the men’s peculiar actions.
“They must have drawn lots,” he exclaimed. “By Jingo, I’ll bet that’s it. If I followed this chap I might make some more interesting discoveries.”
His thoughts reverted to the crowd. Why had none of them appeared? Were they sitting comfortably in the ranch-house, unmindful of the fact that their host had flown? His confidence in his friends was too great to make him feel uneasy about their safety. He had the choice of two decisions. And if he selected the one he was almost irresistibly prompted to do it meant leaving without an instant’s loss of time.
“Of course they’ll know I’m safe,” reflected Bob.
Cautiously he rose to a sitting position, for the sound of the horseman could still be heard.