come in sight of the semi-stockade around their ranch house.
"Our furniture and trunks!" gasped Paul, following the direction of Chet's stare. "What on earth does it mean?"
There on the grass lay their furniture in a confused mass—tables, chairs, trunks, clothing, one on top of another. And in another heap were the farming implements from the barn.
"Captain Grady's dirty work!" cried Paul. "He has come here and taken possession during our absence."
Paul was right, for at that moment Captain Grady appeared at the stockade gate, gun in hand.
The sarcastic smile on the captain's face told plainly that he rather enjoyed the situation. He gazed at the boys without saying a word.
His left hand was tied up in a bandage, showing that he had not entirely escaped the gun traps which had been set. As a matter of fact, half a dozen bird shot still remained in the fleshy part of his thumb.
"What does this mean?" demanded Paul at length. He spoke as calmly as he could, although tremendously excited.
