back to camp. "I got one, I'm sure!"

"I fired low, after I saw they were doing the same, and I saw one
nearly slump out of his saddle," declared old Billee.

"I'd like to know if they were any of the Hank Fisher or Del Pinzo
gang," said Bud.

"I wouldn't put it past them," asserted Snake. "We'll ride over t'
Hank's place, casual like, t'-day, an' see if any of his men are hurt."

Snake spoke rightly of "to-day," for it was getting sunrise-light when
the battle was over, and the party returned to the tents near the flume
reservoir.

The night of excitement, following the mysterious warning sent by the
Indian arrow, had ended, and everyone welcomed the hot, fragrant coffee
made by Buck Tooth.

When Snake's wound and Billee's scratch had been bandaged, the dead
calves buried and the best part of the killed steers cut off for fresh
beef, Bud and his friends took what might be termed an accounting.

The boy ranchers, with Old Billee, rode back over the ground covered in
the attack of the night. The veteran cow puncher pointed out where the
rustlers had ridden into the valley, over a pass that crossed a low
mountain range, which connected, in a fashion, Buffalo Ridge and Snake
Mountain. This ridge formed the lower boundary of Bud's range, and
once the cattle had been driven over this they could easily have been
hazed to Hank Fisher's Double Z ranch.

"Well, there's nothing to make sure it was any of Del Pinzo's gang,
except general suspicion," remarked Bud, as they were about to ride
back to camp. "What's the matter?" he asked, for, with an exclamation,
Nort had leaped from his saddle. The eastern lad was picking up
something from the ground that had been so lately trampled by steers
and horses.

"Look!" exclaimed Nort, and he held up a branding iron.

"One of ours?" asked Bud, in rather a commonplace voice.

"Not exactly," Nort answered. "It's marked with a double Z!"

CHAPTER XVI

QUEER ACTIONS

What effect this announcement had on Dick and Bud can easily be
imagined. Both leaped from their saddles, as Nort had done, and
gathered close to him as he held the branding iron in his hand.

It was of the usual type, an iron plate, which had been cast in a
mould, so that the device--two Z letters--formed a depression in the
smooth surface of the iron plate. On the outer edge was a circle, so
that when the brand was heated, and pressed on the hide of a steer,
calf or maverick it would burn the i