the rough country like a couple of
meteors. The daylight was all they needed to help them in their flight
over a course so carefully covered the night before. Again, as once
before, the professor's claim was at stake, and the motorcycles were
pushed to, the utmost in an attempt to reach McGurvin's and head off the
scoundrelly work of the plotters.

It seemed almost no time at all until the verdant spot, irrigated by
McGurvin's well, came into view in the distance across the bare sands.

"We'll make a detour, Clan," said Merry, "and come up on the ranch from
the rear. There are only two of us, you know, and we will have to
proceed with care if we don't want to spoil everything."

"Sure," Clancy promptly assented. "We'd better leave our machines in the
brush somewhere, and move up on the adobe on foot. If we don't, McGurvin
will hear us."

This plan was carried out. The motor cycles were left at a safe
distance, and the lads crept cautiously forward under the screen of
McGurvin's corral. Corn was growing in the irrigated truck patch, and
Merry and Clancy got into it and moved upon the house.

Presently they began to hear voices; then, catching a glimpse of
McGurvin's hitching pole, they saw a saddle horse secured there.

"Looks like our man was here already," Merry whispered in his chum's
ear.

"Where is the talking coming from?" returned Clancy. "It seems pretty
close."

"We'll find out."

On hands and knees the boys crept on, screened by the broad leaves of
the corn. Presently Merry reached the edge of the cornfield, and paused.
The shady side of the house was not over twenty feet from him, and there
comfortably seated, was a florid, flashily dressed, red-mustached
person. Opposite him, in another chair, was not less a personage than
Professor Phineas Borrodaile. He was looking over his glasses in
consternation at the man with the red mustache. Grouped in the
background were McGurvin and two flannel-shirted, rough-looking
Arizonians.

It had been a happy inspiration of Merry's to hasten on ahead of the
cowboys. It was not afternoon, yet already the stage was set and the
play for the professor's claim was being made. Clancy gripped his chum
tensely by the arm. They did not speak, even in whispers, but crouched
at the edge of the corn and watched and listened.

"Yes, indeed," the professor was saying, in his cracked voice, "you aver
rightly, Mr. Heppner, that this is a remarkable country, most
remarkable.