“I were a-sayin’, pard, as how I’m hotter’n a fried egg,” grunted Willie, with fine mimicry. “Let’s go somewhere.”
“Sure—over to that hangar; we might get a peep at Mr. Carroll’s dirigible,” cried Dick.
“Oh, goodness; not now,” demurred Dave. “I’m ’most famished; and uncommonly sleepy, besides. Aren’t you hungry, Willie?”
“Kinder.”
“Would ye like ter hit the trail fur Circle T Ranch, youngster?” asked Jed, with a quizzical smile.
“Don’t mind.”
“Say something else once or twice a day,” snapped Cranny. “Sure, Jed, we’d better hike over there as fast as we can.”
“Hip, hip, hurrah for the ranch!” cried Sam, making a break toward the bronchos.
The crowd, with their guns, suit cases and bundles, attracted considerable attention, but only Tommy Clifton seemed to be disturbed by the sounds of laughter which came from several cattlemen lounging in front of the Black Bear Hotel.
The discontented look had returned with full force to Willie Sloan’s face. He was tired; and the yellow glare and yellow dust made him devoutly wish that he and Border City were miles apart.