Frank was leading the way to the town corral, bent on getting his horse, Borak. Blunt, who had leave of absence from the Bar Z Ranch, was likewise keeping his cowpony at the corral. When clear of the main street, Frank turned, to find Clancy and Ballard trotting along behind him. He stopped.
“I say, Clan,” said he, “you and Pink are not in this.”
“If not, why not?” demanded Ballard. “This party isn’t so blamed exclusive that Red and I can’t go along, is it?”
“You’ve nicked it, old man. The orders are for two, and no more.”
“Who sent the orders?”
“Give it up. They come through Dolliver.”
“Oh, Dolliver! Think it has anything to do with the robbery?”
“I hope not,” said Frank. “My biggest wish just now is that it has something to do with Lenning.”
“Don’t you know that, Chip?” queried Clancy.
“I don’t know a thing about why we’re going out there. It’s a hurry-up call, and no more than two are to come.”
“Then that settles it,” said Ballard. “Two are to go, and you’ve chosen Blunt. Take your ride, Chip, but if you don’t get back in a reasonable time, Red and I will get a couple of horses and follow you.”
“No,” Frank answered hastily, “don’t do that. I wasn’t to tell anybody but the chap who came with me where we were going. You fellows just stay here, keep mum, and
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 wait till we get back—if it isn’t until next week. Understand?”
“That’s a big order, Chip,” said Clancy, “but I guess we can fill it.”
“We’re going to Dolliver’s now,” Frank went on. “I haven’t a notion where we’ll go from Dolliver’s, or what we’re to do. So long, fellows!”
Rather gloomily Clancy and Ballard bade Chip and Barzy good-by, and wished them luck. The uncertainty in which Clancy and Ballard were left was not at all soothing to their nerves.
Blunt proceeded silently with Merriwell to the corral. It was not until they were mounted, and galloping stirrup to stirrup toward the Ophir Mine on their way to Dolliver’s that Blunt allowed himself to talk.
“It was Dolliver that got you on the wire, Chip?”
“Yes,” Frank nodded.
“What sort of a powwow did he give you?”
“I told Clan and Pink practically all of it, Barzy. Dolliver said that some one was just at his ranch and wanted him to telephone to me. It was noon, and this person who wanted the message sent told Dolliver he thought I could be caught at the Ophir House without any trouble; but, if I wasn’t there, then Dolliver was to try and get you.”
“Dolliver didn’t say who the fellow was that wanted one or t’other of us?”
“I asked him that, but he wouldn’t answer. He said I was to come to his place as quick as I could, was to bring just one person with me, and wasn’t to tell anybody but my companion about the message nor where I was going.”
“Suffering cats!” Blunt exclaimed. “This has got me worked up a-plenty, Chip. It’s a whale of a mystery, eh?”
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“That’s what it is.”
By then, the boys were galloping past the mine, and the roar of the stamp mill was loud in their ears. Their course carried them on beyond the mine, and, as they got farther and farther away from it, the song of the stamps died by degrees into silence.
Dolliver’s ranch was fifteen miles from Ophir. Frank and his chums knew the place well, for they had made free use of Dolliver’s telephone, several weeks before, when the Ophir football squad was in camp at Tinaja Wells, in Mohave Cañon.
Dolliver’s home was entirely surrounded by a wild, unsettled country. Close to the pioneer’s adobe, the bridle path through the cañon began its course, separating from the road that was used by wagons freighting for the Fiddleback outfit.
“You don’t think this can be any sort of trap, do you, pard?” asked Blunt suddenly, while they were pounding along.
“Trap?” Frank laughed. “What sort of a trap, Barzy?”
“Give it up. If somebody wanted to get us into trouble, I reckon this would be a good way to do it.”
“I don’t know of anybody who’d want to get us into trouble. Anyhow, Dolliver wouldn’t. He’s a pretty good sort of a chap, that Dolliver.”
“You can bet your spurs on that!” declared the cowboy heartily. “I’ve known Dolliver ever since I was knee-high, and he’s sure the clear quill. You’re positive it was Dolliver talking at t’other end, of the line?”
“When you’ve heard Dolliver’s voice once,” said Frank, “you couldn’t mistake it for anybody else’s. Sure it was Dolliver talking.”
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“The whole thing is so blamed queer that it sort of set me to wondering.”
“We’re winding up our stay in Arizona with a lot of blue fire and tremelo trimmings,” went on Frank. “If it’s going to do anybody any good, though, I don’t see how I can have any kick coming.”
“You’d like a heap to see Lenning and the colonel on good terms before you leave, wouldn’t you?”
“Nothing would suit me better, Barzy.”
“What luck did you have with the colonel at the golf grounds?”
“None at all. He’s bitter against Lenning.”
“Reckon I told you we’d have our trouble for our pains if we tried to put in a good word for Lenning, didn’t I?............