"Go it, you crazy galoots--but I 'opine ye won't find what ye're a-lookin' fer." Still chuckling, he turned back into the house and pounded on a stovepipe that ran through the ceiling and into a room overhead.
"Have they gone, McGurvin ?" came a muffled voice from above.
"I reckon they have, Nick," laughed the rancher; "they went pippity-poppin' away, each of 'em on a couple o' wheels run by gasoline." "Where'd they go ?" "Happenchance, I reckon.

Leastways, they headed inter the desert, p'intin' thataway." A satisfied grunt echoed from above.
"Lucky I hitched yore bronk out in the scrub," went on McGurvin complacently.

"I'll bet a-plenty them kids was nosin' around afore they come in here.

But they didn't find nothin', nary, they didn't." _"Buenas noches_, Mac," called down the man upstairs, "I'm turnin' in." The words were followed by a faint echo of hoarse laughter.

McGurvin caught up the sound with some heartiness as he locked the door, blew out the light, and went groping through the dark for his own bed..