"That was one of the risks I had to gamble on, but I felt easy in my mind about that. You'll notice one thing if you stay with the Rangers, Art. They can get away with a lot of things they couldn't pull off as private citizens. The law is back of us, and back of the law is the State of Texas. When it comes to a showdown, mighty few citizens want to get us after them good and hard. We always win in the end. The bad-men all know that."
"Just the same, for cold nerve I never saw the beat of what you did now."
"Sho! Nothin' to that. A pair of deuces is good as a full house when your hand ain't called. We'll swing over to the left here an' gather up that bunch of rustled stock, Art."
Late that afternoon, as they were following the dust of the drive, Ridley voiced a doubt in his heart.
"Isn't there a chance that the Dinsmores will follow us and find out we're alone?"
"Quite a chance," agreed Jack cheerfully. "If so, we're liable to swap bullets yet. But I don't reckon they'll do that hardly. More likely they're hittin' the trail for Palo Duro to hole up."
The outlaws did not molest them during the drive. Four days later they reached town with their thirsty, travel-worn herd.
Captain Ellison was at the hotel and Jack reported to him at once.
The eyes of the little Ranger Chief gleamed. "Good boys, both of you. By dog, the old man won't write me any more sassy letters when he reads what you done. I always did say that my boys--"
"--Were a bunch of triflin' scalawags," Jack reminded him.
The Captain fired up, peppery as ever. "You light outa here and see if a square meal won't help some, you blamed impudent young rascal."