"Not that I've heard of. In fact I thought by his action, in sending the healthy animals of his Square M herd here, and to his other ranches, that he'd gotten the best of it. But now the epidemic breaks out here. I can't understand it!" The veterinarian stood looking down at the dead animal, while the buzzards patiently waited nearby for the feast they knew belonged to them. Evidently they were not fearful of germs. "What's that funny smell?" suddenly asked Nort. "That? Oh, it's the smell characteristic of the disease," replied Dr. Tunison. "Not very pleasant. I got some of the pus on my hands--that's why I washed and disinfected them. Well, Bud, I'm afraid you're in for it!" "You mean the epidemic may run through all my stock?" asked the boy rancher, anxiously. "It may, and that's the reason I'm putting you on your guard. But let's hope for the best. We'll act promptly. Fence this place off, or don't let any more water here, where other cattle can drink from the pool, that must, of necessity, be contaminated, now that I washed my hands in it, if for no other reason. Also separate the other cattle into as many herds as you can handle. In this way, if the epidemic gets among one bunch, you don't stand to lose so many. This is about all you can do." "No preventative measures?" asked Bud. "No. If the cattle remain healthy they may resist the germs. Nature sometimes provides her own remedies. She'll have to, in a case like this, where so little is known about this malady that no cure is yet available to science." "That sure is a funny smell--I don't like it!" said Nort again. "No, it isn't very pleasant," agreed the veterinarian. And then Bud, who had been in a serious, brown study seemed, for the first time, to become aware of the evil odor. "That smell! That smell!" he cried. "I've smelled it before!" "Not unless you came in contact with the germs," spoke Dr. Tunison. "Where did you smell it, Bud?" But, as suddenly as he had spoken, Bud Merkel became silent. He seemed to be thinking deeply, and as he turned aside he said: "Oh, maybe it was when Old Billee rode in to tell me he had seen these dead steers." "Possibly," admitted the veterinarian. "The smell is very characteristic, as I said. But you'd better arrange to bury these animals, Bud." "There isn't any danger--I mean to humans; is there?" Bud asked. "If there is we'll let 'em stay here. The buzzards will make short work of 'em." "No, there's no danger to man, even in directly handling the germs. That has been proved," said Dr. Tunison. "But if you let the cattle lie here, and the buzzards eat 'em, in some manner the disease may be carried to your other cattle. Best bury 'em, and fence off this water-hole." Which was done. So the evil-looking buzzards were deprived of a feast, and flapped mournfully away.