ht seemed taken out of him. Without his gun, down on the
ground and his pony out of reach--he lacked all the prime requisites of
a cowboy. There was no escape, covered as he was by Bud, who had drawn
his own .45, and Pocut Pete "jest natcherly caved in," as Old Billee
described it later.

"Caught you at it, just as I thought I would!" said Bud, when Pete was
bound and hoisted up on his horse by the boys.

"Go on! Get it over with," was the grim answer. "I know when the game
is played out, and it was a dirty game from the start. I'd never have
opened it only I was desperate for money, and he offered me a lot."

"I know who you mean," said Bud. "It sure was a dirty game; and the
worst of it is that it isn't over yet. That epidemic may spread all
through our stock!"

Pocut Pete returned no answer as the boys started with him in the
direction of the camp.

"What was he doing--trying to cut more warts off your cattle?" asked
Dick.

"Warts!" cried Bud indignantly. "He was infecting them with the germs
of that disease! Don't you smell the rotten stuff?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Nort. "So _that's_ the game?"

"Yes," spoke Bud bitterly. "I wish I'd acted sooner, when I began to
suspect him! But I didn't think any one would play a trick like
this--especially on some one who never had harmed him."

"Has he been infecting your cattle?" asked Nort.

"Sure!" answered Bud. "I've got the goods on him! He had some thin
glass bottles, with some sort of germ-dope in them. He cut, or
scratched, the cattle and poured this stuff in the sore. That's how my
steers got it, and not from being infected by those dad sent over. Oh,
it sure is a rotten game, just when we were starting, too!"

"He ought to be shot!" indignantly voiced Nort.

"Or strung up!" added Dick.

"I don't care what they do to him!" said Bud. "I'm going to turn him
over to Old Billee and the boys!"

"Don't do that!" begged the bound figure of Pocut Pete. "They--they
may lynch me. Take me right to the sheriff!"

"Too far," said Bud shortly. "I don't care what the boys do to you!
I'm through!"

The prisoner vainly struggled with his bonds, but they held firm.

It need not be written that there was a surprised bunch of cow punchers
who gathered in the camp of the boy ranchers a little later, when Pocut
Pete was delivered to them. Indignant voices and looks were noted on
all sides as his crime was recounted by Bud.

In brief it was this:

From