Merkel knew nothing about the stranger, though he "sized him up,"
as being all right.

But Mr. Merkel had done more than this. He had called, on the
telephone, or had been in communication, otherwise, with the late
employers of Henry Mellon, and the cowboy was well spoken of. He
was a reliable hand, it was said.

"So we don't have to worry about _him_," Bud told his
cousins. "But we do have to take some action about these
rustlers! Hang 'em! I wish they were all bottled up in the
tunnel!"

"That's right!" chimed in Dick.

"Are we going on their trail?" asked Nort.

"If we can pick it up," agreed Bud. "Anyhow, we'll take a ride
over that way. What with cattle missing, and queer shots being
fired behind your back, we're likely to be in for as lively a
time as when we had the water fight!"

"Or locating a Triceratops!" added Nort with a laugh.

After breakfast, and the finishing of the usual "chores" about
camp, the boy ranchers prepared to ride over and look at the
place where the raid had been made. "What cattle had not been
taken--and it was only a small part of the herd that had been
driven off--were now nearer the camp headquarters, having been
hazed over by Snake and Yellin' Kid. Mr. Merkel had been told of