"I see that you found help," he remarked quietly. "And just in time, too. They were about to rush us, I fear."
"I'm glad we came in time," the other scientist remarked. "I don't know your names, gentlemen," he went on, turning to Bud and the others, "but this is my chief, Professor Hendryx Wright."
"I shall take some other occasion to thank you," spoke Professor
Wright, with a smile that included all the rescuers from Slim to Dick.
"But just now one of my men, possibly two, need attention from a
doctor. They have been shot."
"Better let me have a look at 'em," suggested Slim. "I'm not a doctor, but that brand isn't plenty out here. If they're too bad, we can take your men to the ranch. Where are they?"
Professor Wright waved his hand toward one of the tents, and while Slim dismounted to make his way there, Bud and his cousins had time to look about them.
In addition to four white men, which included the two professors, and two who were apparently assistants, there were several Mexicans or half-breeds. These were all armed and had, in common with their white employers, been firing at the attacking party. Of the latter no glimpse had been had. They seemed to have vanished into the forest with the approach of the rescuers.
"Do you have things like this happen every day, Bud?" asked Nort, with sparkling eyes, as the foreman disappeared into the tent where the wounded men lay.
"No, indeed. This is as much a surprise to me as it is to you fellows.
I didn't even know this camp was here."
"What do you reckon it is?" asked Dick.
"Give it up," answered Bud. "I reckon even Zip Foster couldn't make anything of this."