're cow-punchers, and homemade
athletes, but we're not sneak thieves. We were on our way to a ranch
beyond the Picket Posts after, a bunch of Bar Z strays. We watered, late
yesterday afternoon, at the spring by old Happenchance, and we reached
the range we were bound for at ten o'clock last night: Couldn't find the
cattle we were looking for, and we started back an hour before dawn this
morning. We struck that trail of ore half a mile from here, and turned
back to run it out. Right in this place she petered out. While we were
thinking about continuing on to McGurvin's, we heard you two popping
this way, and took to the brush in order to give you a little surprise.
That's the truth of it, and you can believe it or not?"

"I believe it, Blunt," Merry answered, with a restraining glance in his
chum's direction. "Now that we have met you, possibly you can give us a
little information. We're looking for the professor. He suddenly dropped
out of sight, and we're anxious to locate him and get him back to
Ophir."

"Wow!" exclaimed Ben Jordan. "Do we all know anything about this
perfesser? Well, I reckon. Why, he's--"

"Cork!" shouted Blunt sharply. "You chaps keep still about the
professor. I'll do the talking on that point." He turned in his saddle
to face Merriwell, "We can tell you a whole lot about this professor of
yours," he went on, "but I've an ax to grind, Merriwell, and the
information is going to cost you something."

"I thought that was your stripe," sneered Clancy.

"Oh, you did? Say, if I wasn't so teetotally wrapped up in Merriwell,
I'd give a little attention to you, my buck."

"What is the information going to cost?" asked Frank.

"It's going to cost you a fight--with me. Sabe? If you can put me down
for the count, Merriwell, we'll not only tell, you what we know about
Borrodaile, but we'll turn in, every man jack of us, and help you get
hands on him."

That was Barzy Blunt to a hair. He never allowed a chance for a contest
with young Frank Merriwell to get past him.

"Give him his wish, Chip--or let me," growled Clancy. "He ought to have
a little sense pounded into that head of his, and here's an opening."

"If you're hankerin' fer a go, Redhead," called Ben Jordan, "mebby I
could oblige."

"No," put in Frank. "This little matter is between Blunt and me. We've
got the center of the stage, and were going to keep it. The rest of you
can look on." He turned to the Cowboy Wonder. "Sparring is all righ