prised," Frank continued, readily enough, as
though he considered that a foregone conclusion anyway. "He and his
cronies had time enough, unless Peg changed his mind. He might be
wondering what happened to you, and thinking how the X-bar-X ranch
would be safer, in case some of our boys chased after him to give him
the tar and feathers he deserves for playing such a mean trick."

"But supposing they did come," said Bob; "Peg and Spanish Joe, and that
other treacherous cowboy you told me about; we're pretty apt to meet up
with them if we go prowling around here for the next few days."

"Just so, and we'll try to mind our business all the time," remarked
Frank; and then his eyes flashed a little as he continued: "but if they
try any of their ugly little tricks on us, Bob, they're likely to get
hurt."

"I'm with you there, Frank," the other added, shutting his teeth in a
determined way. "I can stand a certain amount of fun, and, I hope,
take it the right way. Your cow punchers said that when they hazed me,
you know. But I certainly do object to any such rough-house business
as fastening a poisoned thorn under a fellow's saddle."

"That game has cost more than a few people their lives," Frank declared
vehemently. "Cowmen draw the line at it. You noticed how angry old
Hank became when he heard about that same thing. But your horse seems
to be getting on all right, Bob."

"Sure he does. That ointment made by old Hank's like magic. Domino
won't suffer much from that jab. But that was a bully good supper all
right, and I don't care how soon we repeat it," he concluded with a
laugh.

Finally both lads lay down to secure such rest as they needed after a
long and tiresome day.

The drowsy chirp of crickets, and shrill voices of katydids in the lush
grass near by, told of the summer night. Many times had Frank listened
to this same chorus as he lay in his blanket on the open prairie,
playing the part of night-wrangler to the herd of saddle horses
belonging to the round-up party of cow-punchers.

He could hear some lurking rabbit slinking through the hazel bushes
over at one side. Somewhere off on the level, where the sage grew so
heavily, there must have been a prairie dog village; for the sound of
the peculiar barking of these queer little animals frequently floated
to his ears as the breeze changed.

The two horses were still feeding at the time Frank dropped off into a
sound and refreshing sleep, but doubt