reality from a position directly behind him. Then
as his vision dimmed again, Nort caught a fleeting sight of a lasso
whirling and writhing through the air toward the Greaser.

Del Pinzo tried in vain to dodge it, but his horse was traveling too
fast. Then, as darkness again closed down on poor Nort he had a vision
of the Greaser, covered with blood, shouting and wildly jerking his
arms and legs, being pulled from the saddle to the ground, his gun
going off harmlessly as he was yanked along.

"Bud got him!" was the thought that flashed through Nort's mind, and
then all became black, and he felt some one helping him down out of his
saddle.

"Where's Dick? I'm not much hurt!" Nort heard himself murmuring,
though, to tell the truth, he did not know for certain whether he was
mortally wounded or not. "Look after Dick! Are they beating us?" he
asked, though he could not see to whom he was talking.

"Dick's all right," answered a voice that Nort recognized as that of
Babe. "It's you we're worried about."

"Nothing much the matter with me," spoke Nort, as his hand again went
to his head. Then he found that a bullet had creased its way across
his forehead, cutting a long gash, but making a wound that was only
superficial, though it bled profusely.

"Are we getting licked?" demanded Nort anxiously, as more shots
resounded in the valley, and he could hear the yells of cowboys, the
clashing of bodies one against the other and the lowing of the cattle.

"No, we've got 'em on the run!" exulted Babe. "Come on, till I lead
you to water, and you can wash off that blood. You look bad that way,
even if you aren't hurt much!"

"Are you sure Dick's all right?" Nort asked.

"Sure! His horse stumbled and threw him. He's limping over this way
now."

"Good!" murmured Nort, and his heart felt better.

But the fighting was not over yet. Driven partly from the valley at
the first rush of the boy ranchers and their friends from Diamond X,
the Greasers and Mexican cowboys returned with a rush. This took place
when Nort was trying to rid himself of some of the blood that had
flowed freely from the gash on his head.

"There goes Yellin' Kid!" cried Babe, as he darted away from Nort's
side.

"Killed?" asked the boy, who could not see just then, as some water got
in his eyes.

"Killed? Shucks, no!" yelled Babe exultantly. "He rode into one
Greaser and knocked him seven ways from Sunday, and roped another,
yankin' him