“I see something I never saw here before,” cried Sam, a few moments later. “Look, Bob.”
“That’s right, Sam—the gas works; and—and—by Jove”—he seized the field-glass from the other’s hand—“the hangar of a dirigible balloon—must be Major Warfield Carroll’s, eh? See it—just beyond that clump of trees?”
“Sure thing!” cried Dick; “and there’s a long line of sheds; most likely to house the aeroplanes.”
“And I notice mills of some kind, too”—the voice came from Dave. “No mistake about Border City taking a big boom, fellows.”
“Just wait till Cran gets in his licks,” grinned Willie. “I’m here to keep him right on the job. He was getting stale in Tacoma. Did you speak, Mr. Clifton?”
“Not to you, William,” returned Tommy, freezingly. “Bob, I can see the Black Bear Hotel now.”
“And the Cattlemen’s Retreat, too,” shouted Cranny. “Whoop! Don’t let the cow-punchers scare you, Willie. There’s always some loafing around.”
Another rasping whistle came over the air as the train began to slacken its speed. Straight ahead, the boys could see the shining steel rails disappear beneath a train shed, while above the roof rose a slender tower. The platform was crowded.
“My goodness, how different from the Border City we knew!” cried Bob. “Looks like a real live town, now, eh, Dave?”
“Remarkable change,” murmured the stout lad. “Wonder if the crowd will have as lively a time out here as they did before.”