miled the Pony Rider Boy.

"Wholly impossible," affirmed Professor Zepplin with emphasis.

"I suppose so. However, I want you to see the captain. I'll tell
you what to do." The lieutenant lowered his voice. "We will be in
camp to-morrow night about twenty-five miles to the southwest of here.
Know where Doble's Spring is?"

"No, sir."

"You can find it. The water gushes out of the rocks pretty high up,
falling in a sort of spray. You can't miss the place. You'll hear it
if it's after dark when you get there."

"And, further, you'll probably see a campfire, but sing out before you
come in too close. Some of our boys are rather sudden when they're
interrupted at night," grinned the Ranger.

"I should call it violent," declared Stacy. "The way you poked that
pistol in my face back there was a caution. You nearly scared me out
of a week's growth."

No one paid any attention to Chunky's interruption.

"Will your captain be there?" asked the professor.

"I reckon he will But I can't tell for sure. McKay is a pretty busy
man. You don't know where to find him. He may be here to-night.
and to-morrow morning he may be sixty or seventy miles away. You
can't tell about Billy McKay."

"Is there any danger of our having difficulties with any of this
fellow's companions?" asked the professor apprehensively.

"I reckon not. At least there won't be after you have come up with
our party. We'll see to that."

"Where are their headquarters---in these mountains?" questioned Tad.

"We don't know. That's what we're trying to find out. We have
reckoned they had their hang-out here, but we haven't found it yet"

"How many are in this band of Border Bandits?" asked Butler.

"There are some that we don't know. We do know a few of them, however.
For instance, there's the Mexican, Espinoso, known as the 'Yellow Kid.'
Then there's Greg. Gonzales, a half-breed Mex bandit, and Willie Jones."

"Willie Jones! That's a funny name," laughed Stacy. "That doesn't
sound very savage. I shouldn't be afraid of a fellow with a name
like that."

"You would if you knew him. Willie is a dude. He dresses like a city
fellow with all the frills he can pile on, and he has the manners of
a city chap too. But you look out for Willie. There isn't a colder
blooded man in the state than Willie Jones. He's quick as lightning
on the gun and can hit a bull's-eye with his own eyes shut."

"If he is any worse than our prisoner over