"Maybe they thought the moonlight would give 'em away," suggested
Nort.
"We'll soon know about it," declared Bud, with grim meaning.
They were now within a short distance of the tents, gleaming white in the moonbeams. From one of the larger canvas shelters shone a ruddy light, showing dark figures within. And then was borne to the ears of the boys the sound of laughter.
"That doesn't seem to indicate a raid or fight," spoke Nort.
"You can't be sure," Bud remarked. "We'd better be careful. Let's dismount and go on foot."
They left their ponies, throwing the reins over the heads of the animals, and cautiously approached the tents of the cow punchers on foot. This tent was, practically, the "bunk house," the assembling place of the men after their hours of work. But before the boys reached this their approach was evidently heard. For a figure came to the flap and a challenging voice called:
"Who's there?"
"Old Billee!" cried Bud, as he and his chums recognized the tones, and with the recognition came a sense of relief.
"Oh, you're back; are you, Bud?" asked the veteran cowboy. "I thought I heard some one."
"Who's up on the watch tower with a lantern?" called Bud, once it was certain that no disaster had occurred.