“Yes, it does look a little like rain, if that’s what you said. Well, to tell the truth, my lad, I had an idea all along that they were a couple of four-flushers. That younger one--Jerry, his name is--talks too loud and too freely. Besides being loquacious, he says too much. And the other--Bill--has a wart on his nose. I don’t like people with a wart on their nose--noses, I mean, maybe warts.” “We can’t afford to let a customer go because he has a wart on his nose. If they meet our price, we’ll give ’em the dogies, irrespective of what they look like. Tell that cayuse his supper’s waiting for him, will you? We want to get home before dark, you know.” Checking the reply that rose to his lips, Teddy Manley clucked to Flash, and the bronco lengthened his stride. The brothers were riding on the edge of a shallow gully that dipped down just the other side of the fence. Far to their left the cattle were grazing, content to keep to their own territory and not investigate these two riders. A quarter of a mile farther on, the boys came to a gate in the fence, and went through into the gully. For some distance they followed the ravine, then cut sharp left, and headed home. By riding through the gully they had avoided a steep hill which lay just within the fence. The day was drawing to a close. The few clouds in the deep blue sky had gathered on the horizon, like white sheep flocking to the fold. The orange and yellow colors of early sunset were already streaking the heavens. A bird, flying low, left a streamer of purling song behind him. The landscape was dotted with water-holes, some of them dried up from the long summer sun, others containing only moisture enough to cover the bottom. As the boys rode on, Bitter Cliff lookout came into view, and then it was only a half hour to the X Bar X Ranch. “Well, whoever does get our stock will get one fine bunch,” Roy said suddenly, breaking the silence. “We’ve never had a finer lot. Healthy, every one of ’em.” “Be a tough break to lose any of ’em now, wouldn’t it?” Teddy remarked absently. “All the summer’s work gone for nothing.” “Why should we lose ’em?” Roy demanded sharply. “Think our men can’t handle a round-up? Bet we don’t miss a single cow!” “Of course, there may be others interested in our cattle,” Teddy said mysteriously. “Like those two Lefton brothers. There _are_ ways of acquiring cows other than buying them, you know. In case--snakes! Did you see that prairie dog?” He pointed to a brown streak that was heading for a clump of bushes. The next moment it was out of sight. “Prairie dog!” exclaimed Roy. “If that was a prairie dog I’m a grasshopper! Haven’t you ever seen a wolf before?” “Wolf? You mean a wolverine?” “I mean a wolf! A full grown one, too! I got a good look at him just before he entered that mesquite. Let’s go get him--he’ll kill a cow, sure, if he gets away!”