they could see his arms and hands motioning forcibly, but
none of them were able to understand the message.

"Better wait," suggested Billee Dobb. "The poor critter is almost
scared out of his wits. He may have a bad brother, but I think he's O.
K. himself. I'll watch him for you. Over here, Mex!" he ordered
sharply.

The cook walked slowly over to Billee, and squatted down beside him.
He looked up at the old rancher as a calf might look for protection to
a cow.

"I'll depend on you to see that he doesn't pull any funny work,"
Hawkins said to Billee. "When the show starts we'll have our hands
full, and we don't want any slip-ups."

Yet they could not afford to give up now. If things worked out as the
agent had hoped, they might succeed in arresting Delton and his gang.

"And that reward will come in right handy," Billee Dobb said.

"Will we really get a reward if we capture these smugglers?" Nort asked
Hawkins.

"You certainly will! And the government will be glad to pay it, too."

"I don't care so much about the reward as I do about getting Delton,"
declared Bud, as he remembered how he was mistreated at the hands of
the smuggler.

"An' I'd like to get my bronc back," Yellin' Kid asserted, as he moved
his arms briskly about to warm himself.

The night wore on, minutes seeming like hours. Billee Dobb stood
motionless, leaning against the side of the ranch house, and at his
feet sat the Mexican, seemingly oblivious of the cold. Hawkins moved
slowly about, glancing every now and then down the road. The others
stood about, talking in low tones. The storm seemed to have been blown
aside, as the rumble of thunder no longer reached the ears of the
waiting men. Still the moon was covered with clouds, making the night
almost pitch-black. A soft glow from the low-turned lamp within the
ranch house was the only illumination.

"Say, I'm goin' to take a walk around to the corral," exclaimed the Kid
suddenly. "This waitin' is gettin' me woozy. Just want to see if the
ponies are all right."

"Watch your step," Bud cautioned. "It's pretty dark. And don't make
too much noise."

"I ain't goin' on any picnic," Yellin' Kid answered. "Be back soon."

He left the protection of the house and in a moment was lost sight of
in the darkness. It wasn't far to the corral, and as he approached the
horses stirred uneasily.

"All right there, ponies," the Kid called softly. At the sound of a
familiar voice the