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Merkel looked anxiously at Billee Dobb on his panting steed, a far-off look was in the eyes of the ranchman. Bud thought he knew what his father's air portended, and he was eager to speak, but he, as well as the others, felt the tenseness of the situation, and waited for what might come next. Nell was about to speak, to voice her gladness that a girl companion was to come to the ranch, when Mr.
"You sure did make out a whole lot better than I ever thought you would," said Mr. Merkel, as he rode along with his son and nephew's. "Putting water into that valley made a big difference." "I should say so!" exclaimed Bud. "Our stock will lay over anything you will ship from any of your three ranches, Dad!" "I wouldn't wonder but what you are right, Bud! Well, let's wash up and eat."
Anxiously the boy ranchers and the others watched the face of the stockman as he read the message. It was rather lengthy, which accounted for the somewhat protracted time it took Mr. Merkel to get at the meaning of the words. But when he had read to the end he passed the missive to his wife, exclaiming, as he did so: "Couldn't be much worse!" "Are they killed?" cried Nell, clasping her hands.
THE ENGLISH SPARROW is a nuisance and a pest, because it drives away from the house and the orchard the house wren, bluebird, phoebe, purple martin and swallow, any one of which is more valuable to man than a thousand English sparrows. I never yet have seen one of the pest sparrows catch an insect, but Chief Forester Merkel says that he has seen one catching and eating small moths.
"What has?" demanded Mr. Merkel. "Our steers?" "No! The Yaquis!" "Indians!" snapped out Bud. "That's them, son! They've broke out left the reservation, and they're headed this way! Oh, rattle-snakes! Get your guns ready! The Yaquis have broke out!" The boy ranchers looked at each other and it can not be denied that there was a joyous light in their eyes. Nell shrank closer to her father, and Mr.
"As if we didn't know that, Dick!" laughed the slighter of two lads who, from their close resemblance, could be nothing less than brothers. "His voice doesn't improve with age; does it, Nort?" asked Bud Merkel, smiling at his cousins, Norton and Richard Shannon. "But he means well," declared Nort with a chuckle.
And while they are thus riding toward the place where a strange tunnel pierced Snake Mountain, I shall take this opportunity to present, more formally than I have yet had a chance to do, my new readers to the boy ranchers. For that is what Bud Merkel, and Nort and Dick Shannon called themselves, being that, in fact.
With a shower of gravel, scattered by the sliding feet of his hastily-reined pony, the man drew up in front of the group. "Mr. Henry Merkel here?" he asked, crisply. "Here," said Bud's father, quietly. "Got a telegraph message for you. It's from La Nogalique!" "La Nogalique!" murmured Mr. Merkel. "Oh, I hope Rosemary " With a rapid motion Mr. Merkel tore open the yellow envelope.
"Whoop-ee!" yelled Bud, flapping his hat down on his pony's flank, thereby causing the animal to leap sideways. "Think of it! Indians! Whoop-ee!" "It's dreadful!" murmured Ma Merkel. "I don't like to think about it!" "But, Aunt, we have to think of it if the Yaquis are coming this way," spoke Nort. "We want to think of it to protect you and Nell!"
"What cattle had not been taken and it was only a small part of the herd that had been driven off were now nearer the camp headquarters, having been hazed over by Snake and Yellin' Kid. Mr. Merkel had been told of the theft, and had advised prompt action on the part of his son and nephews.
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