"Let's go over and see what that means," proposed Tom. He jumped up, ready to sprint over to the clearing. "If you want advice," Dick offered, "I'd say to wait until the shooting is over. You might stop a stray bullet not intended for us." "But what can the shooting mean" wondered Greg. "When anyone is turning bullets loose," remarked Darry, "I'm not too inquisitive." So the boys waited until the firing had ceased. Then they heard what sounded like the noise of a horse moving through the brush. "Hello, there!" called Dick. "Hello, yourself!" came the answer, and a mounted man rode into view. He did not look especially ugly or dangerous; his garb was plainly intended for the saddle. As he came into sight the man slipped a heavy automatic revolver into a saddle holster. "What was up?" inquired Dick, rising and going forward to meet the newcomer. "Stampede," replied the other briefly. "We know something about that," Dick rejoined. "Do you know anything about the burning of the clearing?" asked the horseman, reining up and eyeing the lads keenly. "Yes, sir; we fired the grass," Prescott acknowledged. "To break the stampede?" "No, sir; to save our camp, which would have been destroyed." "Shake," invited the stranger, riding forward and bending over to hold out his hand. "Your fire cost us a few cattle, but I reckon it saved the destruction of a lot more, for there would have been many of 'em killed if they had charged on into the deeper forest." "Then the stampede has been stopped?" asked Prescott. "Yes; two of my men followed the parted trails, and came back to report the two herds halted and grazing. My name is Ross. I'm the owner of about a fourth of the cattle in the big herd." "I hope you don't feel angry with us for doing the best we could to save our camp," Dick went on. "You saved myself and the other owners a greater loss," replied Mr. Ross, "so I thank you." "You're quite welcome, Mr. Ross," smiled Tom Reade. "But what was the shooting about?" "I shot some of the cattle that appeared to be still alive, to put an end to their suffering. You boys haven't any ice here, have you?" "No, sir," Dick replied. "Too bad," said Mr. Ross. "If you had ice I could offer you a prime lot of beef that it will hardly pay me to move, as I can't get the animals cut up quickly enough and on ice, after the long haul I would have to make." "Are you going to leave the cattle on the clearing?" Dick asked in sudden concern. "We'll bury the carcasses," smiled Mr. Ross. "If we didn't the smell would soon force you boys to move your camp a mile or two. But see here! Ever have a barbecue?" "No, sir," Dick made answer, his voice betraying sudden interest. "Would you like one?" went on the owner. "A barbecue, real western style, with a whole cow on the fire?" "It would be great!" answered nearly all of Dick & Co. in concert.