Both boys were, of course, dressed pretty much as cowboys are when on
the ranch; leather "chaps" covering their corduroy trousers; with boots
that mounted spurs; flannel shirts; red handkerchiefs knotted around
their necks; and with their heads topped by felt hats, such as the men
of the range delight in.
Slung to their saddles were a couple of up-to-date guns of the
repeating type, which both lads knew how to use at least fairly well.
Of course both carried lariats slung from the pommels of their high
Mexican saddles. Frank was accustomed to throwing a rope; while Bob,
naturally, had much to learn in this particular.
"Say," remarked the latter, who had fallen a trifle behind his comrade,
"to see the way we're just loaded down with stuff makes me think of
moving day in the old Kentucky mountains. But no use talking, if a
fellow wants to be half way comfortable, he's just got to lug all sorts
of traps along."
"That's right, Bob," assented the other, laughing. "And that applies
in an extra way when he means to be out in the Rockies for perhaps a
week."
"No telling what he may run up against there, eh?" queried Bob.
"Well, if it isn't a grizzly, it may be an avalanche, or a
cloud-burst," remarked the boy who had spent his whole life in the open.
"Not to speak of Indians, or Mexican rustlers looking for a chance to
drop down on some peaceful ranch, and carry off a bunch of long horns;
eh, Frank?"
"Sure; and a lot more besides, Bob," was the reply.
Pages:
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49