"Oh! not thinking of such a thing, Hank," replied the boy. "Why, we
only left the ranch yesterday, you know, and meant to be away several
days, perhaps a week. But I'm glad we ran across your trail right now,
Hank, because you can take a message to dad for me."
"Glad to do that same, Frank," the veteran cowman replied, and then
added: "but jest why are ye headin' this way, might I ask? It's a wild
kentry ahead of ye, and thar be some people as don't think it's jest
the safest place goin', what with the pesky cattle-rustler crowd as
comes up over the Mexican border to give the ranchers trouble; and
sometimes the Injuns off their reservation, with the young bucks primed
for a scrap."
"Is that all, Hank?" asked Frank, turning a smiling face upon the old
rider. Hank moved uneasily, seeming to squirm in his saddle.
"No, it ain't," he finally admitted, with a half grin; "that's Thunder
Mounting about twenty mile ahead o' ye. None o' us fellers keers a
heap 'bout headin' that-a-way. Twice I've been 'bliged to explore the
canyons thar, arter lost cattle; but I never did hanker 'bout the job.
It's a good place to keep away from, Frank."
"You don't say, Hank!" chuckled the boy. "Too bad; but you see that's
just the very place we expect to head for to-morrow--Thunder Mountain!"
The old man looked closely at him, and shook his head.
"I don't like to hear ye say that, Frank," he muttered, uneasily; "an'
I kinder reckons as how yer father'll feel oneasy when I tell him what
yer up to.
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