“Look out for the rattler!” commanded the Ranger sharply.

“Oh, wow!” howled Chunky springing back apparently in great terror.  “Snake, snake!” he cried waving his arms to the others near the campfire.  “Look out for the snake!”

McKay saw no snake to shoot at.  Deciding that the reptile must have squirmed away, the captain, his face wearing a sheepish smile, shoved his weapons back into their holsters and strode back to the camp, where Stacy had preceded him.

There were no further indications of the presence of rattlers, and in a few moments the adventure was wholly forgotten.  Shortly after dinner the captain sent his men out on a long scouting expedition, himself riding from the camp, taking Tad Butler with him.  Tad was proud to be thus singled out.  While they were on their ride, some twelve miles to the southward, the Ranger captain taught the northern lad many things about trailing human beings.  This was all new to Tad.  He listened with rapt attention, though he hoped it never might fall to his lot to have to trail men for a livelihood.  The captain also told him many things about the bad men of the Texas border in the old days.  Captain McKay was a lad then, but he was out with his father much of the time, the father also having been a Ranger, having been killed in a battle with a desperado whom he had been sent to capture.  Captain McKay’s two brothers had shared a similar fate.  Now there remained only Captain Billy.

“And I expect one of them will get me one of these days,” he concluded steadily.

“Why not stop then before they do get you?” questioned Tad.

“A fellow’s got to die some time, hasn’t he?”

“I suppose so.”

“And he won’t die till his time comes, will he?”

“I couldn’t say as to that, sir.  I guess we are not supposed to know about those things here on earth.”

“No, a fellow doesn’t go till his time’s come,” answered the Ranger with emphasis.  “So what’s the use in dodging?  Why, if my time had come and I had quit and gone to the city to live I’d most likely be run over by a trolley car or something of that nature.  I’d a sight rather die in a gun fight with a real man than to get bucked over by a hunk of wood and iron and lightning, called a trolley car.  No, I’ll take my medicine, as I always have and—–­But let’s go back.”

“Still it is no worse than fighting the Germans,” observed Tad.  “I have wondered why you have not enlisted and gone to France, you and your men?  What splendid fighters you would make.”

“Every man of them wants to go—–­I want to go.  I can hardly hold myself down, Kid.  Every one of us has offered his services, but the government would not hear to it.  Because of the activity of the Kaiser’s agents in Mexico and on the border, Uncle Sam decided that we could best serve him right here on the border, and here we are,” answered the Ranger thoughtfully.