ter ther water ag'in, but they won't foller me. This seems strange, an'
I looks ter see what ther matter is.

"Ther ole boar wuz mighty smart, but he'd overlooked one p'int. He'd
fergot thet ther water would melt his balls o' clay, which it did, an'
they couldn't swim no more. I jest stood hip high in the water with my
Winchester an' popped erway at them until they got tired an' run off,
leavin' me enough fresh pork ter start a packin' house."

A hollow groan escaped from Ben.

"What's the use?" he moaned. "You can't beat him."




CHAPTER II.

BUD'S BAD BRONCHOS.


It was time for the fall round-up, and Stella had written from her
uncle's ranch, in New Mexico, that she and her aunt, Mrs. Graham, were
coming North to do their winter shopping in Denver, and would visit the
Moon Valley Ranch to take part in the round-up and the festivities which
the boys always held at that time.

Her letter did not say when she would be there, but the boys knew her
well enough to expect her at any moment following the letter.