And he did, taking long swinging strides that soon took him out of sight of the ridge, into a belt of pines. Here the stranger stopped again and watched for the tenderfoot party to put in an appearance. He did not have long to wait, for there came the strong clear sound of voices, and then he saw a gallant figure on a gray horse ride into full view. This young fellow was dressed in blue, with a flannel shirt of the same color, and a gray sombrero, which was pushed back from his sunburnt forehead.
A perfectly polished rifle was hung across his back, and there was a revolver in the holster at his hip. The young fellow rode his splendid animal with an ease and mastery that showed long experience. Behind the leader rode a shorter lad, but very stockily built, and of extremely dark complexion, with heavy black hair, cut square across.
“That chap must be an Injun,” remarked the watcher in the pines.
But the reader who is more intelligent and better informed, knows otherwise, for he is acquainted with these riders and has been in their company before, and it is not necessary to pass the entire procession in review. The Frontier Boys were all there, and Jeems Howell likewise. The man in the pines was deeply interested in these mounted men, viewing them from his position back of a big pine, in front of which was a screen of brush.
He saw that they were well mounted and armed, nor did they appear entirely like tenderfeet either. There was something in the way they rode and their general air that showed that they could take care of themselves. Once or twice he partially raised his rifle as though about to fire at the leader, but he evidently thought better of it, and contented himself with a mere reconnoissance.
The Frontier Boys were unmindful that they were watched, but they were not careless. Juarez, especially, seemed on the alert, and even suspicious. He kept looking around and once he came to a halt. Swinging off his roan, he began to examine the ground.
“Scent something, comrade?” inquired Jim gravely.
“Something wrong around here,” he said.
“Panther, painter, or mountain lion?” inquired Tom.
“Look out, he will bite you,” volunteered Jo.