But there were no indications of that now, and, in fact, there were none of Mr. Merkel's cattle pastured in the section our friends rode over to get to the ranch headquarters. "Most of the herds are farther north," explained Billee, "an' I reckon that's where th' rustlin' took place." This proved to be the case when they arrived at Diamond X and had a chance to get some information. Mr. Merkel was out at one of the corrals, talking to some of his men, when his son and nephews rode up with the cowboys from Spur Creek. "What's the good word, Dad?" greeted Bud. "Sorry there isn't any good word--it's mostly bad," was the reply. "I didn't like to pull you off from down there," he went on, "but as you didn't seem to be very busy, and as we needed you up here, there didn't seem to be anything else to do." "Oh, we were glad to come!" Nort hastened to say. "What's doin'?" asked Billee. "They're after us again--the rustlers," announced Mr. Merkel. "Same old gang?" asked Bud. "I reckon so," his father answered. "It looks like the hand of Del Pinzo. You have to give that rascal credit for knowing just how and when to strike." "Then he's out of jail again?" asked Yellin' Kid. "That's what some of the boys seem to think," replied Mr. Merkel. "Here's what happened." Briefly he told how during a time when many of his men were driving to the nearest railroad station a bunch of choice steers for shipment to Kansas City, a raid was made on an outlying herd that was being fattened in a sheltered valley for future shipment. Not only were a hundred or more steers driven off, but one cowboy of Diamond X was killed and another wounded. "And didn't our boys shoot back?" demanded Bud indignantly. "Oh, yes, they gave a good account of themselves," his father replied. "They got three of the Greasers. That's how we made pretty sure it was Del Pinzo again. They were just his type of rascals. "And so, because I didn't have men enough here to take after the crowd and get my cattle back, and, at the same time, run things on the ranch, I had to send for you. We'll have to let Spur Creek look after itself for a while." "I reckon it can, Dad," said Bud. "The sheep herders won't come up for a few days yet, I guess," and he told of the latest development in which Professor Wright was concerned. "Hum! So he was lost again, was he!" mused Mr. Merkel. "Seems to me he's getting into a regular habit that way." "Does look so," chuckled Nort. "He's all right in his own way----" "But he doesn't weigh much!" laughed Bud, perpetrating an old joke at the expense of the professor's thin frame, for he did not have much flesh on his bones. More than one cowboy privately recommended to Bud that his father "pasture" the professor out on some good grass for a season. "Well, now you know as much as I do," went on Mr. Merkel. "Our cattle have been stolen, and the gang--Del Pinzo's, I'm pretty certain--is driving them south. It's up to us to get after them."