He must have brought those little, steel pliers purposely.

And after all, he really had no business on the Rolling R range, if he was riding for the Forty-seven.

He had come a good five miles inside the line.

And when you looked at it that way, how had he got inside the line?
There was no gate on the east side of the fence.
It looked rather far-fetched, improbable.

Johnny was slow to accept the theory that he had been led to that airplane just as a toy is given to a child, to keep its attention engrossed with a harmless pastime while other business is afoot.