"Any news of her?" she asked Ted.

"None, but I haven't given up hope by any means. Don't worry so, Mrs.
Graham. I think I am on the track at last, and that we shall soon have
her with us again."

But Mrs. Graham only walked away with the tears coursing down her
cheeks. The herd was grazing to the west of the camp, and Ted rode out
to it, and to where Bud was sitting quietly in his saddle watching it.

There was an air of dejection about Bud, also. Indeed, every fellow in
the outfit was secretly worrying and grieving for Stella.

"Say, Ted," said Bud, as Ted rode up, "I think thar's somethin' wrong
with ther dogies."

Cow-punchers call the small Southwestern cattle "dogies."

"What do you mean?" asked Ted. "I was looking them over this morning.
Rode through the bunch. They seemed to be all right then."

"Oh, they're eatin' well, an' aire as likely a lot o' beef ez ever I
see," replied Bud.

"Well, what then?"

"Thar ain't so many o' them ez there wuz, er my eye hez gone back on
me."

"Any of them get away?"

"I figger it so."

"What have you found out?"

"Some one is liftin' our cattle. That's what I mean."

"Great Scott! What makes you think so?"

"Ted, ther herd has shrunk."

"You judge by the eye, I suppose."

"Yes. That is the only way I have o' judgin'. We hev never had a count
o' them since we drove them onto this range."

"How many do you think we are shy?"

"My eye tells me erbout five hundred."

"Great guns! How could five hundred head get away from us? And right
under our noses, too."

"Easy enough. You must remember that since Stella has been gone we've
paid no more attention to the herd than if we didn't own them."

"That's true. As for myself, I confess that I've given them no
attention. And I've kept you fellows so busy that we've left the cattle
to take care of themselves, almost."

"Well, it's time we woke up ter ther situation, er soon we won't hev no
more cattle than a rabbit."

"That's so. We'll run a count of them in the morning."

"It's shore got me puzzled. I can't think whar they could hev gone."

"Strayed, possibly."

"P'r'aps. Ever hear o' there bein' any rustlers in this part o' ther
country?"

"No, I never have. But there are some pretty bad citizens in this
section, who, if they never have rustled cattle, certainly are capable
of it."

"Alludin' to who?"

"Well, there's Shan Rhue and his gang, for instance."

"They're pretty bad actors, fer shore.