r, the remains of the camp fire having been carefully
stamped out, to prevent dry grass from catching, packs were slung up
behind the saddles--said packs consisting of sleeping canvas, a few
utensils and grub--and the start was made.

The cattle were gradually headed in the direction it was desired that
they should take--the shortest route to the railroad. Nort rode up
ahead with Chot, while Dick, Bud and Dirk kept to the rear to haze
along the stragglers.

There was not much trouble. The cattle had been watered and fed, and
were in prime condition. At noon a halt was made to save the animals
during the excessive heat, but toward evening they started off once
more, and traveled until darkness fell. Camp was made again out in the
open.

During the day no signs were seen of any rustlers, or other suspicious
characters, and at night the young ranchers and the older cowboys took
turns riding herd and standing guard.

But nothing of moment occurred, the only sounds, aside from those made
by the cattle themselves, being the unearthly yells and howls of the
coyotes.

In less than three days the bunch of cattle was safely delivered at the
yards, where the responsibility of Bud and his companions ended, the
buyer taking charge of them for shipment.

"Did you get the rustlers, Dad?" asked Bud as he and his cousins, with
Dirk and Chot, rode up to the ranch buildings after their successful
trip.

"No," answered Mr. Merkel, who was out waiting for his son and the
others. "They got clean away."

"Did you see who they were?" asked Dirk.

"Well, I have my suspicions," answered the ranchman. "And I'm not
through yet. How'd you make out, boys?"

They told him of the night scare and Dick's narrow escape, and the eyes
of Bud's father glinted in anger.

"Up to tricks like that, are they?" he exclaimed. "Well, I'd like to
catch 'em at it!"

"Do you know what I think?" exclaimed Bud with energy.

"Well, son, I can't say I do," spoke his father. "You generally skip
around so like a Jack rabbit, it's hard telling where you are. But
shoot! What's your trouble?"

"My trouble is," said Bud slowly, "that I don't know enough about those
professors and their gang!"

"The professors!" exclaimed Nort and Dick.

"That's what I said," went on Bud. "I think their pretended search for
something is only a bluff. They're high-grade cattle rustlers, that's
what I think!"

No one said anything for a few moments, and then Mr