He looked more intently at the house, seeking to concentrate his attention on the everyday affairs of life. Smuggling. The reward if they caught Delton. What they could do with it. A new herd of cows. The Kid's bronc—whether he would see it again. How Delton timed the arrival at the Shooting Star ranch just when the smuggling car got there. The getaway. How it did rain!
Still, in spite of himself, that uneasy feeling was stealing over the boy. Surely there was no one around but Bud, away over on the other side. Of course it was night, but there was plenty of moonlight, and there was not much chance of Delton's men prowling about. Perhaps it was because there were trees back of him that Dick felt restless. Might be better to move more out in the open.
The boy arose, then suddenly froze into stillness. That peculiar feeling that there was someone behind him became stronger.
It seemed as though a pair of eyes were boring into his back. He listened intently. Suddenly he heard a voice.
"Hey, Dick!"
The boy turned swiftly, hand on his every nerve a quiver!
"It's me, Dick! Billee Dobb!"
What a relief! The boy now recognized the old rancher's voice, and the next moment Billee appeared, walking as noiselessly as possible.
"What on earth are you doing here, Billee?"
"I decided to come back. Didn't want to miss all the fun."