The four punchers dashed over the ground. Now they came to the head of the cattle herd. “They ought to be near here!” Teddy shouted, referring to the rustlers, “unless they got scared an’ beat it!” But he saw almost immediately that this latter was not so. From the opposite side of the herd four men came riding, their guns out, their horses in a lather of foam. “Spread!” Roy yelled. “Get apart! And fire low--they’ll kill us if they can!” As the approaching rustlers came closer, their guns began to bark. Bullets whined overhead, and Teddy answered with a shot from his rifle. But this weapon was useless on the back of a rearing bronco. The boy thrust it into his saddle holster and drew his six-gun. The four rustlers were bunched together and coming like a flying wedge. Teddy realized the wisdom of Roy’s shouted advice to “spread” when he took quick aim at the group and fired. One of the rustlers gave a wild yell and clapped his hand to his side. “Hope that was Denver,” Teddy said to himself grimly. “Let ’em have it, Roy!” he yelled. “Pepper ’em!” Roy was doing that very thing. The bullets of the rustlers were coming uncomfortably close, and when they swept past, Roy saw one of them take deliberate aim at Pop Burns and pull the trigger. The veteran lurched, recovered himself, and, wheeling his pony about, followed the outlaws. “Hurt bad, Pop?” Roy called, his face white. “Nope! Shoulder--left!” Pop shouted back. “All right. Go get ’em!” Greatly relieved at Pop’s answer, Roy sped onward. He thought that the rustlers would seek to escape, but this did not now appear to be their plan. They had worked hard to drive the cattle thus far, and were not going to give them up without a struggle. However, they changed their minds when Mr. Manley, Jake Trummer, and the others came into sight from beyond a rise. The boss of the X Bar X had ridden in from the south side, trying to see if the cattle were indeed his, but the two men and their companions had whirled about as soon as they heard the firing. Now, with guns out, they rode for the rustlers. Leading the attackers who were in the reserves, was Jules Kolto. The pinto he was on had outdistanced the others, and, before he knew it, he was face to face with the four cattle thieves. “Denver!” Teddy heard Kolto yell, “I want you!” There was a reply from the group of thieves, but it was unintelligible to Teddy. Then a single shot snapped and Kolto swayed in the saddle. Releasing his hold, he fell heavily to the ground, while his pony, mad with fright, raced on without him. Teddy and Roy reached his side at the same instant and leaped from their horses. The rustlers were in full flight now, so there was no danger that they would attack the boys on foot. As Roy leaned over the former bandit, Kolto grinned faintly. “Got me--at last,” he gasped. “Denver--shot me. That’s poetical justice--or somethin’--ain’t it? One bandit shoots another!” “Where did you get it?” Teddy asked quickly.