Bud, with lips that were firmer now, touched spurs to his pony and hastened toward the tents and corral. "What you aimin' to do?" called Yellin' Kid after him. "I'm going to get on the trail of those rustlers," grimly announced Bud Merkel, "and I'm not coming back until I land 'em! Come on, fellows," he called to his cousins. "Let's pack up for a long hike on the trail!" CHAPTER XVII WILD COUNTRY Following after Bud, his cousins and the older cowboys swept along toward the home camp--to the tents which served the purposes of ranch buildings. Yellin' Kid trotted beside Old Billee, who, however, now that his bullet-scarred side had been bandaged, rode with more ease. "What you goin' t' stop for?" asked Snake, when he saw Bud turning in toward the corral where spare ponies were kept. "Aren't you going after the rustlers?" "Yes, when we get packed up for a long ride!" Bud answered grimly. "What's the good of riding over just to look at the place where they drove off our cattle? I can see that any time. What I want to do is to get on their trail." "And not give up until we land 'em!" added Nort. "That's talking!" cried his brother. "Did you see any of 'em, Buck Tooth?" he asked the Indian, beside whom he was riding. "Me see too many," was the grim answer, which explained why the Zuni had probably not gone in pursuit. "They ride like what you call--jack-rabbits." "They can't keep that pace up long," declared Bud, as he slipped from the saddle, having turned his horse into the corral. "They can start the steers off with a hip-hurrah, but they'll have to slow down if they don't want to kill 'em, and that wouldn't pay. They'd get some fresh beef and the hides, but they'd waste more than they'd get out of it." "What do you imagine they really plan to do, and who are they?" asked Dick, as he and his brother followed Bud to their own special tent. "I can only guess who they are, and your guess is as good as mine," the western lad answered. "Then I'll say Del Pinzo and the Hank Fisher gang," ventured Nort. "And I'll agree," replied Bud. "They have two motives, now, for working against us. One because we've beaten 'em in two innings--the time of the Triceratops and in the underground river game. But getting our cattle--or the cattle of any other rancher--is reward enough in itself at the price beef is selling for now. They want to make a lot of money, and ruin us because we've come to Happy Valley. But they'll find that we can bat a little, too," added Bud, carrying out the simile of a baseball game. "And it's going to be our turn at the plate mighty soon!" "The sooner the better," declared Nort, and his brother nodded in agreement. When Old Billee's wound had been further attended to, with the more adequate remedies kept in camp, there was a gathering of the "clan," so to speak, in the tent where the boys and their cowboy helpers usually ate.