"You mean him?" and Bud nodded toward where the cowboys were
congregated in friendly talk.

"No, I mean about the rustlers."

"Oh, they're bad! No question about it--they're _bad!_"
declared Bud. "As soon as we get a chance we'll ride over and
take a look at the place. It doesn't seem reasonable that they
can drive a bunch of cattle off down the valley, and then have
all traces of 'em disappear as if they'd gone up in an airship."

"That's right!" chimed in Dick. "Do you s'pose this Four Eyes saw
the rustlers?"

"He didn't come from that direction," declared the western lad.

"He _says_ he didn't," spoke Nort. And when Nort accented
that one word Bud looked at his cousin quickly.

"Don't you believe what he says?" Bud asked.

"All the same I'd call up your father," went on Nort.

Bud hesitated a moment and then said:

"I will! No use taking chances. He may be all right, but it won't
do any harm to know it. I like his looks, though we don't often
get a cowboy with glasses. I'll call dad!"

Which he did, on the telephone, learning from his father that Mr.