"Here they come!" exclaimed Rob, half unconsciously clasping his rifle. "Well, they don't seem to be anxious to disguise their approach," commented Harry. "No, why should they? They figure that only three or four punchers at most are guarding the herd. With the force they have with them they suppose, I guess, that they can scare the punchers off." "I reckon that's it," agreed Merritt. Closer and closer drew the galloping, and Merritt began to shift uneasily. The others, too, began to stir about, eager for the word to advance and mount their ponies, which were concealed behind a high rampart of chaparral a few paces off. At last Rob gave the word. "Crawl over to your ponies, boys. Don't show a head." Silently as so many snakes, the Boy Scouts retreated, and managed to gain their little mounts without making any suspicious sounds. "Ready for the signal yet, Rob?" asked Merritt, noticing that the young leader had slipped his revolver from its holster. "Not yet. Give them a little more rope. We want to see what their plans are before giving the alarm." "All right. But don't let them give us the slip." "Not likely. Remember, I've got a few scores to even up with Master Clark Jennings and Company myself." Suddenly out of the darkness before them came an ear-splitting "whoop." "Yip-yip-y-ee-e-e-e!" Bang! Bang! Rob's pistol cracked out the signal that the attack had begun at the same instant. But quick as he was, the boy had delayed a little too long. In his anxiety to make sure from which quarter the drive was to begin, he had allowed the raiders to get between his line of scouts and the cattle, thus permitting them a free and open path to the mountains. In a flash Rob realized this, as he swung on his pony's back. Silence was of little moment now, and the Boy Scouts uttered a loud cheer as they swept forward behind their leader. Bang! Bang! It was the answer to Rob's signal, from Mr. Harkness's party. But it sounded faint and far off. The rancher, in his anxiety to allow ample room to head off the cattle, in case they started for the Graveyard Cliffs, had stationed his men too far to the southward. Already the drive had begun, and the mavericks were trotting off before the onrush of a dozen or more dark figures garbed like Indians. "Whoop-whoop-whoop-ee-ee!" yelled the raiders, the better to keep up the illusion that they were Indians. "I guess they don't know that they are not throwing any dust in our eyes," muttered Rob, as he dug his spurs in deep, and his pony answered with every pound of speed in its active little body. By his side was Harry Harkness and all about them surged the other Boy Scouts. "Spread out! Spread out!" commanded Rob, as the charge swept forward. "Each Scout take a man and rope him if he can."