Frank's little "scout," as he called it, on which expedition he had driven the redskins from the wounded miner, had convinced him that Cimarron Bill and his gang had withdrawn from the vicinity of the Queen Mystery Mine.
So it came about that Merry and Bart Hodge started for Holbrook, bringing with them the gold Frank had found in the saddle-bags and belt of the dead miner.
Boxer would not be left behind. Since the death of his former master the dog kept close to Frank, for whom he seemed to have formed an affection quite as deep as that he had entertained for Benson Clark.
Frank and Bart came, dust covered and wearied, into Holbrook.
Boxer's engagement with the mongrel curs, who set upon him, was an incident to enliven their advent in town, and it demonstrated the mettle of the setter.
The shot that came from the window of the hotel was somewhat surprising; but, as the bullet failed to pass anywhere near either Bart or Merry, they did not fancy it was intended for them. Still Frank dropped a hand toward the pistol swinging at his hip, thinking the lead might be intended for Boxer.
A puff of smoke was dissolving before the open window, but Cimarron Bill had vanished, nor did he again appear there. Neither Frank nor Bart had seen him.
So they were not greatly alarmed, and they laughed over the manner in which Boxer had put his assailants to flight, merriment which was joined in by many of the spectators who had gathered to witness the fight.
"Good boy, Boxer!" said Merry. "You did that up slickly."
At which the setter turned toward Frank and showed his teeth in a grin, and something followed that caused several of the bystanders to gasp and stagger or stand dazed and astounded.
When Frank and Bart rode on two or three of those men hurried into Schlitzenheimer's saloon, where one of them banged the bar with his clenched fist, and shouted:
"By thunder! that's the first time I ever heard a dog talk! Was I dreaming?"
"None whatever, pard!" declared another, mopping sweat from his face. "I heard it plain enough. For the love of goodness, Fritz, give me a snifter of tanglefoot! I need something to brace my nerves after that!"
"Vot id vos you peen sayin'?" asked the fat Dutchman behind the bar. "Vot vos dot voolishness apoudt der talkings uf a tog?"