Biff Norris and the Clue of the Worn Saddle. John Runyan
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the game and cooling them when the players changed horses between chukkers. It was two or three days later before they had time to do anything on their own.
At their first opportunity to get away, Biff borrowed one of the relief mounts, and Chip put the western type saddle he had brought from Aunt Caroline’s ranch on Ebony, and they rode off toward Maxima. It was only six or seven miles into town, but they went from one store to another before finding a Bible, and it was almost dinner time when they got out on the trail once more.
“We’re going to have to hurry or we’ll miss out on something to eat,” Biff said, touching his pony in the flanks with his heels.
They saw a rider approaching but paid little attention to him until they were almost face to face with him. The boys reined up in surprise.
“You!” Biff Norris exclaimed.
Sebastian Alonzo smiled politely. “Esta V. siempre bueno?” he asked blandly. “Do you continue in good health?”
“What are you doing up here?” Chip blurted.
“What would you say should I tell you it is to enjoy the beautiful ride in the pampas?”
“It would seem funny to me that you’d come away out here to go horseback riding,” Chip commented.
“And so it is. Buenos noches, amigos.” He touched the rim of his hat lightly in an informal little salute and rode on.
The boys turned and stared at him.
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