“Whoa there, you tin-plated drone, you! Pull up on yo’ busted axles! Plant yo’ locoed wheels and stay set! Stop that shakin’! _Stop_ it, I say! Boil me in oil, if I don’t rip yo’ carburetor right out o’ you! Try to bounce the liver outta me, hey? Why, you salivated piece of yaller-backed tin, I’ll-- Excuse _me_, ma’am!” The dust had blown away, disclosing the surprised face of Bug Eye Wilson. “I shore didn’t know you was here,” he said to Nell and Ethel, with an embarrassed grin. “I wouldn’t have talked like that if I’d knowed ladies was around. I don’t never do such things. But this hopper-necked, sawed off, lead mule--pardon _me_, ma’am! I forgot!” Nell and Ethel were doing their best to preserve straight faces, but the task was almost too much for them. Ethel had to press a handkerchief to her mouth, while her eyes watered with strangled mirth. “You’re--you’re late, aren’t you?” Nell asked, trying to control her voice. “Yes, ma’am. Got a puncture. Had to put on a new tire. Then this--this--well, ma’am, you know what I mean!” “Yes, I guess I do,” Nell answered faintly. “But I’m glad you came. Mr. Manley’s horses have been stolen, and he and Roy and Teddy are going to ride back with us.” “Hey! What’s that?” Bug Eye turned swiftly toward the ranchman, the grin fading suddenly from his face. “Broncs gone, honest?” “Sure have gone,” answered Mr. Manley laconically. “Hooked. Rustled. Stolen. Whatever you’ve a mind to call it. And right off the main street of Eagles!” he added bitterly. Of a sudden, he turned and walked rapidly down the street. “What’s the game, Dad?” asked Roy, not quite able to account for his father’s action. “You stay there. I’ll be back in a minute,” Mr. Manley called over his shoulder. “I want to see what I can find out about this.” In a moment he was out of sight behind the freight shed. The two boys wanted to go with him, but Roy mentioned to Teddy that they had been told to stay where they were. “I hope dad doesn’t get into a scrap,” murmured the older lad. “I don’t reckon he will,” remarked Bug Eye. “But if he does, all he needs is to sing out, an’ we’ll all come runnin’!” The anxiety of Teddy and Roy was soon at an end, for in a few minutes their father re-appeared. He looked tired and dusty, but there was a grim smile on his face. “Some of the railroad men down at the corral saw ’em,” Mr. Manley reported to his sons. “There were three fellows leading our three horses away.” “Why didn’t they stop ’em?” Roy wanted to know. “They didn’t have any cause to, son. Thought the men owned the horses, as was natural. Those fellows didn’t wear any brand to let folks know they were rustlers.” “No, I reckon not,” agreed Teddy slowly. “Did you find out which way they went?” asked Roy eagerly.