"Exactly. Only there won't be much to do. Just keep awake in case anything happens. I'll have Merry Dick, the best of my boys, stay with you for a day or so." The ranchman had saddled a big bay broncho when Bob saddled Firefly and, after locking the door of his cabin, they galloped away toward the west. On the ride the plainsman gave Bob many valuable pointers about what to do if trouble broke out in the herd, and for getting along with the other cowboys. After an hour or more of riding, they came to the herd, spread out over a quarter of a mile of plain, and rode round it till they came to where four cowboys were lolling on the grass, smoking. Looking up lazily at the sight of their boss, when they caught a glimpse of Bob's fresh, young face they evinced a lively interest. "Boys, this is Bob," said Ford, by way of introduction. "Bob, the homeliest of the lot is Merry Dick; the one next to him to the left is Yellow Tom; next is Shorty Flinn and the last is Crazy Ned. "Dick, you're to go over on the West station with Bob for three days. Get some grub ready. "Now, remember, every man Jack of you, Bob is my special friend. If you try any funny business, you'll have to settle with me; and don't forget, cowboys ain't worth near as much as a lean steer." And without another word, this strange man wheeled his horse and rode away. CHAPTER XXIII BOB OVERHEARS A SECOND PLOT Chester had accompanied Bob and Ford to the cowboys' station, and when they saw that the dog showed no signs of returning, Yellow Tom called out: "Hey, you Ford. Take this cur of yours with you--or I won't stay on the job another minute." The ranchman, however, either did not hear or pretended not to, and after a minute Bob said: "Mr. Ford has given Chester to me." "What?" chorused the cowboys, in amazement. "I said that Mr. Ford had given Chester to me," replied Bob. "And you let him?" queried Crazy Ned, staring at the boy as though he must be daft. "Why not?" "You're liable to wake up in mincemeat some fine day, that's all," commented Yellow Tom drily. "Oh, I guess not," answered Bob. "Chester and I are good friends, aren't we, my boy?" and dismounting, he called the dog to him and stroked his head. A moment the cowboys watched the proceeding in amazement, then Shorty Flinn voiced their feelings by saying: "Am I dreamin' or is this tenderfoot pattin' that ornery cur?" "He's pattin' him, all right," returned Merry Dick. "Say, kid, you're a wonder. There ain't no man ever dared touch that dog so long as I've known about him and that's for ten years." "But can you make him mind?" demanded Yellow Tom. "Surely." "Then stop his growlin' at me." Recognizing this as a test, Bob stroked the dog's head caressingly, saying, in a matter-of-fact tone: "Stop growling, boy. None of these men are going to harm me." A moment the dog looked at Bob, then leisurely glanced from one to another of the cowboys--and stopped snarling.