“Sure does, boss!” Pop Burns exclaimed excitedly. “Proves what I been thinkin’ all along. This Froud is a rustler! I knowed that as soon as I saw him tryin’ to carve out an X Bar X from a hunk of wood one day down by the river. Came upon him sudden like, an’ he tried to hide the wood on me. But I seen it. Seen the X Bar X brand, too.” “Did, hey?” Mr. Manley asked in an interested tone. “You never told me that. But let it go. We know who to look for now. Golly, she’s sure some dusty!” “I’ll tell a maverick!” Roy murmured, wiping his brow. The excitement of the first dash had somewhat worn off, and they rode along now with a show of quiet determination. Mr. Manley and Roy were in the lead. Their horses took on that long, easy gait that carries a cowboy comfortably over thirty miles of prairie in a day. No one knew just how long this chase would last. Gus Tripp urged his mount closer to Mr. Manley’s. “Say, boss,” he drawled, “I suppose you heard about the 8 X 8 bein’ visited?” “A little, Gus,” Mr. Manley answered. “Man on the train told me. Do they know who the rustlers were?” “Well, they got kind of an idee. There’s been other ranches missin’ stock in just the same way that the 8 X 8 lost theirs. They say the same gang does all the jobs.” “They do, hey?” Mr. Manley considered. “I wonder--” He started, then stopped. Whatever was in his mind he kept to himself. “Dad, are you figuring on stopping at Eagles?” Teddy called. “Maybe we can find out something more from one or two of the men there.” “Don’t think so, son,” his father answered. “There’s a certain crowd that hangs out in Eagles that I don’t particularly hanker for. I guess you know who I mean.” “There’s one bird I’d like to see again,” Teddy remarked slowly. “The puncher who was outside Rimor’s. He needs a lesson in politeness.” Mr. Manley nodded. “We may meet him again. Seemed to me he knew more than he wanted to tell. Still, he might have been just plain ugly. You can’t accuse a man of bein’ a rustler because he won’t answer questions.” “Did some buckaroo answer you short?” Pop wanted to know, pushing his hat farther back on his head. “Who was it?” “Don’t know,” Teddy replied. “He was leaning against Rimor’s Place when the broncs were stolen. He must have seen them, sure! When we asked him about them, he-- Well, never mind what he did. But he didn’t tell us.” “Have on a checkered shirt?” Pop asked. “An’ no vest?” “Yes,” Teddy replied in a surprised tone. “How’d you know, Pop?” “I seen him,” was the brief answer. “He’s been stayin’ at Rimor’s. Friend of Gilly Froud’s.” “He is?” Roy exclaimed excitedly. “Hear that, Dad?” “I heard,” Mr. Manley said briefly. “I had an idea I’d seen him before. He rode out to the X Bar X one day and asked for Froud. When I told him Froud was ridin’ cattle, he cut back for town. Yes, I remember, now.”