The surprised lads recognized the fellows at once.
They were some of the cowboy athletes from the Bar Z Ranch--Blunt, the Cowboy Wonder, and his particular cronies, Ben Jordan, Bandy Harrison, and Aaron Lloyd.
"Whoop!" exulted Blunt, his spirited black horse rearing under his firm grip on the reins.

"Look who's here, pard! It's Merriwell, by glory! Chip Merriwell, the son of his dad! Merriwell, the silk-stocking athlete! We're diamonds in the rough, pards, but he's cut and polished until he dazzles the eyes.

Well, well! What do you think of this ?" Merry was conscious of one thing, and that was that the present meeting in the desert was due to chance alone, and not to any plotting on Blunt's part.
"Whoop!" jubilated Blunt's three companions, put to it somewhat to curb their restive mounts.
"Hold still, Frank, you crazy fool!" cried the Wonder, slapping his horse about the ears with his hat.

"He's scared of those chug-chug bikes, same as the rest of the bronks.

Whoa, I tell you!" Blunt was a master horseman, and soon had his plunging steed steadied down.