Clancy, Ballard, and Blunt, on their way to town from the gulch, came charging toward Merriwell and Lenning at full gallop. They drew to a quick halt, very much surprised at sight of Merry and his old enemy. Nor were the newcomers pleasantly surprised, as they were quick to make manifest.
“Chip, or I’m an Indian!” exclaimed Ballard.
“And I’m another Indian,” snorted Blunt, “if he isn’t chin-chinning with one of the fellows who stole Mrs. Boorland’s money!”
Clancy had nothing to say, but he looked his violent disapproval of his chum’s actions.
“If that’s the way you fellows feel,” said Frank, temper flashing in his eyes, “you can leave my horse here and ride on.”
That Lenning was in deadly fear of Blunt was plainly to be seen. The cowboy had taken the trail of Lenning and Shoup, immediately after Mrs. Boorland had been robbed, and for a time he had crowded the pair pretty hard. Lenning, evidently, was still in doubt as to the cowboy’s intentions toward him. His haggard face went white as chalk, and he crouched shivering away at the trailside.
“Don’t get excited,” sneered Blunt, leveling his cold black eyes at the youth. “If Chip Merriwell has taken you under his wing, I won’t lay a hand on you. How about it, Chip?” he demanded, shifting his gaze to Frank.
“I’ve helped Lenning get a job at the Ophir mine,” Merry answered.
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“That settles it,” grunted Blunt, tossing the reins of Borak to Frank.
Scowling blackly, the cowboy pulled down the brim of his hat and set spurs to his horse. He had not a word to say. Frank looked after him grimly, then laughed a little, and vaulted into his own saddle.
With the going of Blunt, Lenning revived considerably. Straightening his shoulders, he stepped back to the trail. Clancy and Ballard watched him with a gaze far from friendly.
“Good-by, Lenning,” Frank called from the saddle. “Do your best, over there, and everything will come out all right.”
“Thank you, Merriwell,” Lenning answered. “If I do come out all right you can bet I’ll know who to thank for it.”
He threw a defiant glance at Clancy and Ballard, a look of gratitude at Merriwell, then turned on his heel and started south. Slowly Frank put Borak in motion the other way.
Clancy and Ballard rode on either side of Merriwell, and both preserved a glum silence. They were displeased, but Merry had done what he thought was right, and the attitude of his chums did not worry him.
“Have you hooked up with that crook, Chip?” asked Ballard, as they rode into town and headed for the corral.
“I’m trying to help a fellow who doesn’t seem to have a friend in the world,” was the answer. “If that’s what you call ‘hooking up’ with a crook, Pink, I guess you’ve nicked it.”
“It was a foolish move,” began Clancy, “and I didn’t think——”
“It’s my move, Clan,” interrupted Merry, “so you
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 needn’t sob your head off about it. Your fingers won’t be burned if the move’s a bad one.”
Nothing more was said, and the ride to the corral was finished in an atmosphere that was not particularly pleasant for anybody. When the horses had been taken care of, and the three chums started on foot for the hotel, Clancy’s loyalty to Merry got the better of his wrathful feelings.
“Oh, well, hang this Lenning business, anyhow!” he exclaimed. “You never go very far wrong, Chip, and if you think you’ve done right, why, that’s enough for me.”
“Same here,” said Ballard, but rather gloomily. “Whenever I think of Apache Point and that falling rock, I’m mad enough to fight. You’re generous to a fault, but it’s your own fault, and why the blazes should we take it out on you? But it’s still my private opinion that Lenning’s a skunk.”
“I’m not trying to change your opinion,” Merry laughed, “so you needn’t get your back up if I want to do a little reasoning for myself. Now, forget it.”
They did forget it, and by the time they reached the hotel they were laughing and jollying each other in their usual fashion. Blunt was sitting on the veranda, when they arrived, and his burst of indignation had also subsided.
“You’re one too many for me, Chip,” he remarked, shaking his head in a puzzled way, “but I’m not the one to jump on you for making friends with a rattler. If the varmint makes a strike at you, though, I reckon I’ll show my hand quick.”
What Frank had done for Lenning was no longer discussed. The lads got together on the less dangerous and more interesting ground of the canoe race in the gulch,
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 and talked it over until the hotel Chinaman came out in front and pounded the supper gong.
The evening meal out of the way, Barzy Blunt went off to spend the evening with Mrs. Boorland, Clancy and Ballard got into a game of checkers in the hotel office, and Merry went upstairs to his room.
Frank was pestering himself with the question of that cyanide clean-up, and the gold in the laboratory safe which Lenning was to guard. When he had first heard of the clean-up and the gold, he had made up his mind to stroll out to the Ophir workings during the evening, and sort of reconnoiter the situation at the cyanide plant. Later, he had decided that such an a............