They tore themselves away at last, leaving the cowboys grouped about the door and looking after them with eyes from which the last vestige of distrust and reserve had vanished.

“Not a maverick in the bunch,” commented Pete.

“Every one of them carries the man brand,” added Chip.

“They shore can warm their beans at my fire,” concluded Buck.

CHAPTER IV

A Forest Terror

“A dandy day for fishing,” remarked Bert as he was dressing a few mornings later.

“Just right for the speckled beauties to bite,” acquiesced Dick as he looked out of the window and saw the clouds that obscured the sun.

“What do you say to trying it?” suggested Tom, who was an enthusiast on the subject.  “I’d like nothing better than to whip some of these mountain streams for trout.”

“Or troll for pickerel in the lake Mr. Melton was telling us about,” amended Bert.  “He says there are some whopping big fellows up there.  We’ll find plenty of bass, too, and they’re fighters from way back.”

At breakfast the matter was broached and met with the hearty approval of Mr. Melton.

“I don’t think it will rain before night,” he said, “and on a hazy day like this they’ll keep you busy pulling them in.  How about tackle?  Did you bring any along?”

“Plenty,” answered Bert.  “Each of us has a rod and reel.  The pike and pickerel will bite at the spoon, and we can get plenty of bait for the bass right out here in the garden.  Let’s hurry up, fellows, and get busy,” he continued, pushing his chair away from the table.  “Won’t you go along, Mr. Melton.”

“Like to,” said their host.  “Nothing would suit me better than to pull in some of the sockdolagers you’ll find in that lake.  But I’ve got a date with a horse dealer to-day, who’s coming up to look at some of my bronchos, and I can’t get off.  Don’t catch them all to-day,” he laughed, “and some day soon I’ll go with you.  Of course, you’ll take your guns along.”

“Why, yes, if you think it necessary,” replied Bert.  “But we’ll be pretty well loaded with tackle and fish if we have any luck.”

“Never mind the load,” he adjured emphatically.  “Never go into the mountains without your gun.  Of course, you may have no use for it.  Chances are that you won’t.  But it’s a mighty wise thing to have a good rifle along wherever you go in this country.  And if you need it at all, you’ll need it mighty bad and mighty quick.”

So that when the boys left the house a half hour later, they took with them not only all that was necessary to lure the finny prey from their lurking places, but each as well carried on his shoulder a Winchester repeating rifle and around his waist a well-stored cartridge belt.

Mr. Melton gave them explicit directions as to the route they were to follow to find the lake, which lay in the hollow of a broad plateau about five miles back in the mountains.