"Yes, an' that slick Mexican half-breed of his, Del Pinzo!" declared Snake. "Anyhow, they got away with a bunch of your steers, Bud, an' now what are we goin' t' do? Are we goin' t' sit back an' let 'em laugh at us?" "Not much!" declared the boy rancher. "But let's get this straight. I wonder why they didn't drive off the whole herd while they were at it?" "Probably it was too big a contract for 'em," remarked Yellin' Kid. "An' then, too, they might not 'a' had men enough, or th' cattle may 'a' stampeded." "An' maybe they was scared off," added Snake. "Yes," agreed his partner on the ride from which they had just returned, "that may have been so. Somethin' may have scared th' rustlers. But if I get a chance at 'em, I'll throw a bigger scare int' 'em!" and he significantly tapped the grim .45 at his hip. "Any trace of which way they went?" asked Bud. "There is--up to a certain point," admitted Snake. "What do you mean?" the boy rancher asked. "Well, I mean we could trace the cattle down the valley up to that low place between the hills-a sort of pass. And then all trace of 'em was lost." "Lost!" repeated Nort. "Yes, sir, lost!" declared Snake. "You couldn't see any more signs of 'em than if they'd been lifted up in one of them flying machines and histed up over the mountain! That's th' funny part of this raid." "There have been some other queer things around here," said Dick. "There was that bottle last night." "What was that?" asked Snake, quickly. "There was some promiscuous shooting around here last night," said Bud. "I'll tell you about it as soon as we get the straight of this rustler business. Maybe there's some connection. But I wonder----" He was interrupted by a voice singing, and the song was one of the usual cowboy refrains, though the voice was rather better than usual. At first the boy ranchers thought it might be Old Billee Dobb who, with Buck Tooth, had been out to a distant part of the valley to see if he could get on the track of a mountain lion which had been killing cattle. But a glance showed the approaching singer, who was also a rider, to be a stranger. He sat astride a big, black horse, much larger than the ordinary cow pony, and as he approached the camp the sun glinted in curious fashion on his face. "Four eyes!" exclaimed Snake, meaning, thereby, that the stranger wore glasses. The rising sun had reflected on their lens. On came "Four Eyes," singing as he advanced, until, when he came within hailing distance, he drew rein, saluted the assembled company with a half-military gesture and called out: "Any chance of a job here?" CHAPTER VIII THROWING THE ROPE