George could only nod his head in reply. He had made the best excuse for his cousin that he could think of on the spur of the moment, but it was a very flimsy one, and he saw plainly that he could not make any more without arousing suspicion against himself. “It is my private opinion that there is a regular nest of thieves in that house!” said the other rancheman. “It’s mine, too!” said the man in the blanket. “If that Ackerman is an honest fellow why does he go about wearing his boiled shirt and broadcloth suit every day? The moment I got a fair look at him I told myself that there was something wrong about him. If that chap in the silver buttons was a man I’d fix him; but seeing that he’s nothing but a boy, I’ll snatch him so bald-headed that his hair will never grow again. I’ll teach him that one who receives and holds fast to stolen property, knowing it to be stolen, is as bad as the man who steals it, and that the law holds good here in Texas as well as it does in Maine!” The man did not bluster when he said this—those who mean just what they say seldom do—and that was just what made George believe that his cousin was in a fair way to be severely punished. What the man would do to him when he found him, George of course did not know, and he dared not ask; but he was satisfied that it would be something Ned would always remember. The angry rancheman said several other things in a very decided tone of voice, all going to show that no boy’s-play was intended, and when he and his companion had finished their pipes they arranged their blankets, bade George good-night, and lay down to sleep. But there was no sleep for George. He was keenly alive to Ned’s danger, and a thousand wild schemes for extricating him from his troubles suggested themselves to George’s busy brain; but he could hit upon only one thing just then. If that succeeded Ned’s peril might be averted until he could have an interview with Mr. Gilbert. George was certain that that gentleman could tell him just what ought to be done. “I shall put myself in danger by doing it, but it can’t be helped,” thought the boy. “My cousin must be saved at all hazards; and if these men, or any of the settlers, want to take revenge on me for putting him out of harm’s way, they are welcome to do it. How easy it is to get into trouble and how hard it is to get out of it!” With this reflection George scraped his bed of leaves a little closer together, threw another stick of wood on the fire, and tried to follow his two guests into the land of dreams; but the sleep he so much needed to prepare him for the next day’s journey would not come at his bidding. All the night long he tossed restlessly about on his hard couch, and about half an hour before daylight sank into an uneasy slumber. CHAPTER XIV. GOOD AND BAD NEWS.