receiving some of the particulars of the case on hand, Ike
Watson started off.

"You'll hear from me before another sun smiles on ye!" he called back.
"An' don't ye worry too much in the between time!" And he then
disappeared.

The boys felt much more comfortable after Watson had started off to hunt
up Allen. They knew the old man would do all in his power to help their
elder brother, no matter in what difficulty he might find him.

"A rather odd character, truly," observed Noel, as they again passed
into the house.

"Yes, but with a heart of steel and gold," returned Chet. "Idaho does
not contain a braver or better hunter than old Ike Watson."

Shortly after this Chet and Paul went out to care for the cattle about
the place, for quite a few head had already been penned up ready for the
early fall drive. The ranch did not boast of many cattle, and such as
there was they desired to keep in the best possible condition.

Noel Urner accompanied them and was much interested in all to be seen
and what was done.

"Such a difference between life out here and in the city," he remarked.
"Actually, it is like another world!"

"You're right there," replied Paul. "And when you size it up all around,
it's hard to tell which is the best--providing, of course, you can get
a comfortable living at either place."

Just as the three were walking back to the ranch the sounds of a horse's
hoofs broke upon their ears.

"Can it be Allen?" burst out Chet, but then his face fell. "No, it's not
his style of riding."

"Oh, pshaw!" whispered Paul a second later. "If it isn't Captain Grady!"

"And who is he?" queried Noel.

"An old prospector who wants to get possession of this ranch. He claims
that our title to it is defective, or not good at all. I wonder what he
wants now?"

"Perhaps he's got more evidence to prove his claim to the place,"
groaned Chet. "Oh, dear! Troubles never come singly, true enough!"

With anxious hearts the two brothers walked forward to meet the new
arrival, whose face bore a look of insolence and self-satisfaction.

Captain Hank Grady was a tall, evil-looking man of forty years of age.
His title was merely one of favor, for he had neither served in the army
nor the navy. But little was known of his past by the people of the
section, and he never took the pains to enlighten those who were
curious enough to know.

For years he had wanted the Big Bear ranch, as the Winthrop homestead
was called, for ne