"Better defer it till to-morrow," said Nat, who like the rest, was beginning to shiver in the keen air of the mountains, "it's too cold to wait for all your preparations."
And so, when Herr Muller returned to the fatherland there was one picture he did not have, and that was a portrait of the Motor Rangers as they appeared immediately after routing three notorious members of Col. Morello's band of outlaws.
The boys were not up as early the next morning as they had anticipated. In the first place, it was somewhat dull and overcast, and in the second they were naturally tired after their exciting adventures of the preceding day and night. The first person to hail them as they left the dining room where they had partaken of a hearty breakfast was Cal Gifford. The stage driver drew them aside and informed them in an irate voice that on account of the stage having been held up the day before, he had been notified by telegraph early that morning that his services would be no longer required by the Lariat Stage Company.
"What are you going to do?" asked Nat, after he had extended his sympathies to the indignant Cal.
"Wall, I've got a little mine up north of here that I think I'll go and take a look at," said Cal.
"Oh, 'bout two hundred miles. I'm all packed ready ter go, but I cain't git a horse."
He indicated a battered roll of blankets and a canteen lying on the porch. Surmounting this pile of his possessions was an old rifle--that is, in pattern and design, but its woodwork gleamed, its barrel was scrupulously polished, and its mechanism well oiled. Like most good woodsmen and mountaineers, Cal kept good care of his weapons, knowing that sometimes a man's life may depend on his rifle or revolver.
"Can't get a horse?" echoed Nat. "Why, I should think there would be no trouble about that."
"Wall, thar wouldn't hev bin, but thet little Dutchman bought a nag this mornin' and started off ter take picters on his lonesome."
"I guess you mean he hired one, don't you?" asked Joe.
"No siree. That Teutonic sport paid hard cash fer ther plug. He tole the landlord that he means ter make a trip all through the Sierras hereabout, making a fine collection of pictures."
"He must be crazy, starting off alone in an unknown country," exclaimed Nat.