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Updated: June 7, 2025
"Well," grumbled her companion, defeated at every point, "Barb's got plenty of horses." Kate did not like to hear her father called Barb, but Belle would not call him anything else. Back of the cottage, Doubleday had a small barn, where Henry an ex-cowboy looked after Doubleday's driving horses.
The cod-coo-ee-ee which the ex-cowboy emitted rang through the valley and came back in weird echoes from the crags around. "Now he knows there's some one here looking after him," the stranger explained. "He knows that Old Mose Jackson is right on the job. What might your name be, pard?" he added, turning to Ned. "Nestor," was the reply. "Ned Nestor, of course!" Jackson exclaimed.
"You're the boy to give it to 'em, Jack," called the big ex-cowboy in a last farewell. "Give 'em thunder." Jack waved a parting salute as he joined his comrades. Frank and Bob did likewise. Then with night settling down over the vast desert waste they rode on into old Mexico. Beside the white stone marking the international boundary, Tom Bodine sat his horse like a statue.
"It was just a faint streak of orange. Now it's gone." "Look here," said Bob to Tom Bodine, "does that cave face this way or is it on the other side of a hill?" "It's on t'other side," answered Tom, "an' near the top." "Well, I'll bet you there's somebody in that cave. And the light that Frank saw was some kind of a signal to the airplane." The big ex-cowboy scratched his head.
From the path below came the sound of footsteps approaching unsteadily, and the voice of a man swearing and muttering to himself. Standish pulled the ex-cowboy into the shadow of the darkness and spoke in eager whispers. "You understand," he concluded, "you will not report until you see me pick up a cigar from the desk and light it. You will wait out here in the darkness.
Lan's nearest neighbor was Lou Bonamy, an ex-cowboy and sheep-herder, now a prospecting miner. He lived, with his dog, in a shanty about a mile below Kellyan's shack. Bonamy had seen Jack "perform on a bee-crew." And one day, as he came to Kellyan's, he called out: "Lan, bring Jack here and we'll have some fun." He led the way down the stream into the woods.
Evidently it was a much harder thing to lasso one of these little pearl atrocities with its alleged "loop" than to rope a vicious steer. And there were those tangling threads of gold. If he should hurt her! The ex-cowboy almost prayed, as, with the caution of a man treading upon knife-blades on the edge of a precipice, he unwound the two little curls from the top button of the collar.
"You stay here!" the ex-cowboy gritted. "The less trouble you make the better treatment you will receive." "What are you doing to Collins?" asked the newcomer. "Tell him to come up here." "I'm being held a prisoner!" Collins shouted. "Train your guns on these kids and drive them off. And find Lyman. He left the cavern, but he's somewhere about, for he answered a cowboy call not long ago."
Shoop's voice came to him clearly, but as though from a distance, and as Shoop talked Lorry visualized the theme, forgetting where he was in the vivid picture the old ex-cowboy sketched in the rough dialect of the range. "I've did some thinkin' in my time, but not enough to keep me awake nights," said Shoop, pushing back his hat.
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