You'll need help, and if he knows anything about the Yaquis he'll
be of value."

"All right," remarked Bud. "He's on. What horse can I take for him?"

One was selected. Together the boy ranchers and Rolling Stone rode out
to Happy Valley, for certain matters must be adjusted there before the
start could be made after the Indians who had carried off Rosemary and
Floyd.

Work went on at top speed, and a day later our young heroes, with
Rolling Stone, better dressed, but the same unconventional spirit,
started forth.

"On the trail!" grimly remarked Bud as they started to join forces with
those from Diamond X.

"On the trail!" echoed Nort and Dick.

"And we can't meet with those Yaquis any too soon for me!" added
Rolling Stone.

"You seem to have it in for them rather hard," observed Dick.

"It can't be any too hard," answered the man with a grim tightening of
the muscles around his mouth. "When I think of all they did--"

He paused and gazed at the distant horizon. That there was a story
connected with his hate of the Yaquis none of the boys doubted, and
they were eager to hear it. But this was not the time and place. Too
much remained to be done, and there was too little time in which to do
it.

"I wonder when we'll meet up with the imps?" spoke Nort, as they ambled
easily along.

"No telling," said Bud. "We've got things in shape back there so that
we can remain away all summer if need be," and he glanced back toward
their ranch which they had just left. "But I'd like to clean up this
bunch of 'onery' Yaquis, and then get back on the job. Cattle raising
is our business."

"But just now we're following a side line of rescuing Rosemary and
Floyd," observed Nort. "And I think we can do it!"

Well it was that Fate veiled the Future.

CHAPTER V

ROSEMARY AND FLOYD

"Floyd, I don't like this a bit!"

"What's the matter, Rosemary?"

The young man driving the sturdy little sport model of a car brought
the machine to a stop and glanced at the girl sitting beside him.
There was a quizzical smile on his face, a good-natured smile, however.

"What don't you like, Rosemary?" he asked again, and there was not in
his tone any air of bored fault-finding such as seems to come natural
to some brothers in appealing from a decision of some sisters.

"I don't like the way this trail is shaping up, if you'll excuse my
English," answered Rosemary Boyd.

"Your English is perfectly excusable, Rosem