"Trouble?" Then he exploded with a furious oath, and his volcanic temper drowned the sunburn of his cheek under a living heat. "Them rustlers. Them lousy bums," he cried almost choking. "That bunch o' yearlings--Shorthorn yearlings, Miss. Thirty of 'em--picked right out of the bush corrals where we'd got 'em for re-brandin'. Say, Bud--your father, Miss," he corrected himself. "He ain't around?" But Nan's interest was in the work of the rustlers. Not in his final inquiry. Her pretty eyes were wide and hard with the anger his news had inspired. "The Shorthorn yearlings, Lal?" she demanded. "Our prize stock?" "Sure, Miss. Them. That's them. God blister their filthy carkises! May they stew in hell!" He spat over his horse's shoulder as though to emphasize his furious disgust But his forcefulness was displeasing. "Guess you best off-saddle," Nan said coolly. "Father'll be along right now. You'll need food. Say, what boys you got out there?" she inquired as the man slipped out of the saddle and began to unfasten the cinchas. "Why, just the same four damn fools, an'--Sikkem." "And they're following up the trail?" "Sure." The man flung off the saddle and his horse mouched away. "Psha!" he cried, turning his fierce eyes upon Nan. "What's the use anyway?" His gesture was one of helpless disgust. "They're out. Bin out since daylight. An' I guess they've as much chance roundin' that crowd up as they would huntin' bugs in a hundred acre pasture. Sikkem's about the brightest. But he ain't no sort o' good after a bunch of rustlers. I wouldn't trust him with a dead mule o' mine anyway. The boss hangs to him as if he was the on'y blamed cowpuncher east o' the mountains because he's handy. I don't like him, Miss, an'---- Say, how did them rustlers know 'bout them calves? Ther's two hundred head o' beeves out there, an' they passed 'em right over fer the Shorthorns." The man's argument and distrust of the man Sikkem made a deep impression on Nan. She had listened to some of the latter before. But Jeff's predilection for the dark-faced half Greaser had left her sceptical of Lal's opinion. Now, however, she was seriously impressed. At that moment Bud himself rode up at a gallop, and behind him rode four of the home station boys. The pace at which he came was unusual, and Nan's troubled eyes promptly sought his face. Instantly her greeting died upon her lips, which tightened ominously. His usually steady gray eyes were hot and fierce, and his face was set. The comfortable lines about his mouth were drawn hard and deep. She needed no word to tell her that further trouble was abroad. He scarcely waited for his horse to come to a halt. He was out of the saddle in a moment, and his great figure towered before the foreman, whom he took in with an angry stare.