Very early the next morning Dave Carson and Pocus Pete, astride their favorite horses, and carrying with them a substantial lunch, set off after the strays which had been dimly observed the day before up Forked Branch way. This was one of the tributaries of Rolling River, the valley of which was at one time one of the most fertile sections of the largest of our Western cattle states. The tributary divided into two parts, or branches, shortly above its junction with Rolling River. Hence its name. Forked Branch came down from amid a series of low foot-hills, forming the northern boundary of Mr. Randolph Carson's ranch. "We sure have one fine day for ridin'," observed Pocus Pete, as he urged his pony up alongside Dave's. "That's right," agreed the youth. For several miles they rode on, speaking but seldom, for a cowboy soon learns the trick of silence--it is so often forced on him. As they turned aside to take a trail that led to Forked Branch, Dave, who was riding a little ahead, drew rein. Instinctively Pocus Pete did the same, and then Dave, pointing to the front, asked: "Is that a man or a cow?" CHAPTER II THE TAUNT Pocus Pete shaded his eyes with his hand and gazed long and earnestly in the direction indicated by Dave Carson. The two cow-ponies, evidently glad of the little rest, nosed about the sun-baked earth for some choice morsel of grass. "It might be either--or both," Pete finally said. "Either or both?" repeated Dave. "How can that be?" "Don't you see two specks there, Dave? Look ag'in." Dave looked. His eyes were younger and perhaps, therefore, sharper than were those of the foreman of Bar U ranch, but Dave lacked the training that long years on the range had given the other. "Yes, I do see two," the youth finally said, "But I can't tell which is which." "I'm not altogether sure myself," Pete said, quietly and modestly. "We'll ride a little nearer," he suggested, "an' then we can tell for sure. I guess we're on th' track of some strays all right." "Some strays, Pete? You mean our strays; don't you?" questioned Dave. "Well, some of 'em 'll be, probably," was the quiet answer. "But you've got t' remember, Dave, that there's a point of land belongin' t' Centre O ranch that comes up there along the Forked Branch trail. It may be some of Molick's strays." "That's so. I didn't think of that, Pete. There's more to this business than appears at first sight." "Yes, Dave; but you're comin' on first-rate. I was a leetle opposed to th' Old Man sendin' you East to study, for fear it would knock out your natural instincts. But when you picked up that man as soon as you did," and he waved his hand toward the distant specks, "when you did that, I know you've not been spoiled, an' that there's hope for you." "That's good, Pete!" and Dave laughed. "Yes, I didn't agree with th' Old Man at first," the foreman went on, "but I see he didn't make any mistake."