valley.

"I may need some one," Bud said. In fact, he was in need of an
additional hand, and since this latest action on the part of
rustlers he wanted help more than ever, for he was about to put
into execution a plan for getting on the trail of these
marauders. "But how'd you know who I was?" he asked, anxious to
ascertain how the stranger had picked him out, as distinguished
from Nort or Dick.

"Oh, your father looks like you," was the easy answer, given with
a laugh, in which Snake, Yellin' Kid and the boy ranchers joined.
"When he said he didn't need any riders, adding that perhaps you
might, I decided to take a chance."

"All right. I can use another hand--or, rather, _we_ can,"
and Bud waved his hand toward his cousins. "You can turn your
pony into the corral," he added, "and we'll give you something to
eat--unless you've had breakfast?" he questioned.

"Not so much but what I can eat more. Thanks! My name's Henry
Mellon. I've ridden some for Curly Q and Long L if you want any
references."

"I reckon my dad sized you up all right," spoke Bud.

"I reckon he did!" laughed Henry Mellon, or Four Eyes, as I shall
call him, following the custom of the others on the ranch. "I
wouldn't want to try to put anything over on him."