The smile which had rested on his face immediately vanished.
“Good-bye, lads!” Mr. Ogden was calling. “Yes, Bob; one of us will ride over soon. Take care of yourselves.”
“We shall!” laughed Cranny.
A chorus of “Good-byes” arose. The Mexican flapped his reins and the wagon wheels began to revolve.
The crowd raced by the side of the vehicle as far as the stockade, and stood gazing out over the prairie as it rumbled slowly away. Not until a patch of timber had hidden the conveyance did they turn toward the ranch-house.
“All alone!” said Sam.
“Dreadful situation—with no one but Willie to protect us,” wailed Dick.
“See here, Cran Beaumont, when are you going to get to work at Border City?” demanded Willie.
“Mighty soon,” answered Cranny, with a cheerful grin. “I’m thinking ’bout it.”
“And I guess that’s almost enough to give you brain fag. Say, I do wish those cattle would keep away from our yard. There’s an awful lot loafing around outside. Ever notice their eyes, Brandon? They roll frightfully.”