The skies were brightening for Jode Lenning. His story of what had happened in the gulch has been borne out by the capture of the road agents and by the discovery that Shoup was wearing Lenning’s clothes and riding Burke’s horse. Blunt was beaming and Lenning was radiant.
“Ye’ve had yer fuss around this rock pile all fer nothin’,” remarked Dolliver.
“Glad of it,” Frank laughed. “Where did Hawkins catch those fellows, Dolliver?”
“On the trail between here and Ophir. Shoup an’ t’other chap are swearin’ by all they’re worth that they don’t know a thing about the holdup, but Burke’s hoss an’ Lenning’s clothes are two things Shoup can’t explain. Hawkins is now trying to get the road agents to tell what they done with the mail bags. They won’t tell. I opine they think they stand a show to dodge the consequences if they keep mum about that missin’ mail.”
“We’ll get the bags to town as soon as possible,” said Frank.
“Good idee,” approved Dolliver. “Put away this here grub, fust thing, then come down to my shack an’ git yore hosses.”
“Did you telephone anything about the mail bags, Dolliver?” asked Lenning.
“Nary a word. I jest kept all that was goin’ on here to myself. You fellers can explain about the mail bags. It’s none o’ my put in.”
There were three happy youngsters who sat at the foot
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 of the bowlder heap that morning and ate the grub Dolliver had brought to them. A cheerful mind is a good appetizer, and the lads were not long in cleaning up the supply of food. After that the mail bags were shouldered, and the return to Dolliver’s was made.
On the way down the cañon the boys acquainted the rancher with many matters of which he had been in ignorance. The story told by Lenning was gone over for his benefit, and struck as hard a blow at his credulity as it had at Merriwell’s and Blunt’s. But recent events had clinched the truth of the yarn, so all Dolliver could do was to believe and marvel.
“Sounds purty far-fetched, an’ that’s a fact,” declared the rancher, “but ye can’t dodge facts, not noways. Everything’s workin’ around purty good fer you, Lenning. I’m glad as blazes that I made up my mind to help ye with that telephonin’ yesterday. There was one spell that I reckoned I hadn’t better have anythin’ ter do with ye; then, when it kinder struck me how Merriwell was yore friend, and that his jedgment was a heap better’n the ordinary run, I jest nat’rally made up my mind ter do what I could.”
“I’m obliged to you, Dolliver,” said Lenning.
“Let it go at that. I’m a rough old propersition, I reckon, but I like ter help a feller when he’s down. An’ you was purty well down, wasn’t ye, when ye stuck yer head in at my door yesterday an’ asked would I send that myster’ous message ter town?”
“I was,” said Lenning, with emphasis.
“So I allowed,” and the chuckle sounded in the rancher’s hairy throat.
Once at the ranch, Frank and Blunt lost little time getting their horses under saddle.
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“One of us will have to carry the mail bags, Barzy,” said Frank, “and one of us will have to carry Lenning.”
“You let Lenning ride with you, Chip,” the cowboy suggested. “This cayuse of mine never carried double, and I don’t know how he’d act. I’ll agree to make him tote the mail bags, though. Got any rope, Dolliver?”
Dolliver secured a reata, and Blunt used it to make the two bags fast behind his saddle. When the cowboy mounted, his horse showed some temper at the unaccustomed load at the saddle cantle by pitching and plunging. It was not much of a fracas, and Blunt quickly got the animal steadied down.
“Takes quite a hoss ter git the best o’ you, Barzy,” grinned Dolliver. “Ye can ride, boy.”
Merriwell took Lenning up behind him. The latter, before they started, reached out a grateful hand toward the rancher.
“Some time, Dolliver,” said Lenning, “I hope I can do something for you. Until that time comes, my thanks will have to be your pay.”
“Shucks!” grunted Dolliver. “Think I have ter take money for every blame’ thing? I don’t want nothin’ more. What I’d like a whole lot, though, would be ter have a couple of friends like Merriwell an’ Blunt.”
“You’ve got ’em, pard,” said the cowboy. “Eh, Chip? If you ever get in a hole, send us a hurry-up call and we’ll come a-smokin’. Adios, Dolliver.”
“So long!” called Frank.
Lenning waved his hand. Then, the next moment, both horses were galloping along the trail toward Ophir.
“I’m pulling out of this a good deal better than I thought I would,” remarked Lenning. “I suppose I’ll have to get another job, though. Burke wouldn’t hold my place at the tanks for me.”
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“That’s where you’re wrong,” Frank answered. “Mr. Bradlaugh told Burke to give you the benefit of the doubt, and to let one of the mill hands fill in as night watchman until you come back.”
“Mr. Bradlaugh did that?”
“Sure! I was around when he gave orders to the super.”
“Then I’m mighty glad the general manager isn’t going to be disappointed in me,” Lenning said, with a good deal of feeling. “That ball game, last Saturday, made me a host of friends, Chip.............