anyone else had
done it. Billee Dobb certainly scored heavily.

As the ranchers were leaving the restaurant they passed a Mexican who
was coming in. Dick looked sharply at him. Something about the shape
of his back seemed vaguely familiar, and the boy was about to say
something when Joe Hawkins, who was the last out, exclaimed:

"Did you see that Greaser just going in Herb's? One of the worst men
in town. I'm telling you because he works on the next place to yours.
If I were you I'd leave him entirely alone. Not that you'll have
trouble with him--but forewarned, you know. Well, boys here's where I
leave you. Got to get back to the office, and see how things are. I
reckon I'll see you right soon, as you're so close, and anything I can
do for you, let me know ime-jit! Think I'll take a run out to your
place within the next week, and see how you make out. Well, _adios_,
boys. Good luck!"

With a wave of his hand he was off. The boys were sorry to see him
leave, for he was very pleasant company.

"I have an idea he'll be a good friend," declared Nort as they rode
toward the ranch. "And if anything turns up, we may need a couple of
such friends."

"He's regular, all right," the Kid agreed. "Looks as though he could
handle himself in a fight, too. Doesn't talk much, but when he
does--he says something. Yep, he suits me to a T."

"Good thing we met him," Dick said. "Well, boys, here we are!"

In front lay the ranch. As the five drew closer, they could see that
the houses were well built. It was indeed in good shape.

"Say, here comes somebody that's sure in a hurry," Billee Dobb said
suddenly. "Wonder what he wants?"

Riding toward them, dust raising under his bronco's feet, came a lone
horseman.

CHAPTER VI

THE THREAT

Pulling their ponies to a halt, the five gazed curiously at the
approaching rider. As he drew closer, they noticed he carried a
sawed-off "scatter-gun," otherwise a shotgun. This in itself was
strange. No true Westerner ever sports one of these, and they are
looked upon with derision by the regular "gun-totin'" cowboy. A
long-barreled Colt is the puncher's favorite weapon.

The stranger reined up sharply as he came within talking distance and
looked piercingly at the ranchers as he called out:

"Anything I can do for you?"

"Well, I don' know," answered the Kid slowly. "You might, and then
again you might not. What happens to be your special line?"

The s