The air was close and oppressive, and not a breath of wind rustled the
dry prairie grass. The boys mopped their foreheads, and hurried along
with the men. By this time the entire sky was overspread with a funeral
pall, and it was so dark that they could hardly see. When they were
within a few hundred yards of the bunkhouse they heard a weird whining
noise far off over the prairie, and suddenly a little puff of cool air
struck against their heated faces.
At this moment Sandy, followed by several cowboys, dashed up, and they
all leaped from their horses. "We'll jest have time to make the
bunkhouse," he said; "the wind will reach us in another minute. Lively's
the word, boys."
He and the others with him who had horses dashed behind the bunkhouse,
and tethered the frightened animals where they would be sheltered in some
measure from the wind and rain. They dashed around the end of the
building and ran through the door, preceded by the party with which the
boys had started from the corral. The door of the bunkhouse was slammed
shut just in the nick of time.
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