?" came from his friends.

"Didn't you say that I looked like your son Bud?" asked Tom of Bill
Cashaw.

"I did."

"Has Bud ever been to Red Rock ranch?"

"Three or four times, but not lately."

"Does Sack Todd know him?"

"Yes, but not very well."

"Then that settles it," announced the fun-loving Rover. "I, as Bud
Cashaw, am going to deliver the letter at the ranch."

"Tom, that's too risky!" cried Fred.

"I don't think so. I can tell them that the letter was left for
father"--pointing to Bill Cashaw--"after he started for the ranch.
I don't see how they can help but swallow the story."

"Yes, but see here--" interrupted the old man. "This ain't fair. I
want you to understand--"

"I know what I am doing, Mr. Cashaw, and you had better keep quiet.
Watch him, fellows."

Without loss of time, Tom made his preparations for visiting the
mysterious ranch. He rubbed some dirt on his face and hands, disheveled
his hair and turned up one leg of his trousers. Then he borrowed the
rather large headgear that Hans wore and pulled it far down over his
head.

"How will that do?" he drawled. "Say, is my pap anywhere around this
yere ranch?"

"Mine cracious! of dot ton't beat der Irish!" gasped Hans. "Tom, you
vos make a first-class detector alretty!"

"He certainly looks like an Alabama country boy," was Fred's comment.

A few touches more to his disguise and Tom was ready to depart for
the ranch. He called Songbird aside.

"Watch that old man," he whispered. "He may not be as innocent as he
looks. Don't let him get to the ranch. If he does, our cake will be
dough."

"Of course you don't expect to catch up to the wagon," said Songbird.

"No, but if I do, I'll go ahead anyway--if Mr. Monday will let me."

It was not long after this that Tom left the others. He struck out
boldly along the poorly defined wagon trail, which led over some
rough rocks and down into hollows now filled with water. The marks
of the wagon ahead were plainly to be seen, but, though the youth
walked fast, he did not catch sight of the turnout.

It was dark by the time he came to the fence that surrounded the
ranch buildings. He saw Bill Cashaw's wagon standing under a shed.
Two men were unloading the contents. They were both strangers to Tom.

It must be admitted that Tom's heart beat rapidly as he stepped into
view and slouched toward the wagon shed. The men started in surprise
when they beheld him.

"Say, whar's my pap?" he called