--they were due at our ranch this
morning--and you're to come when you can."

"Might as well be quick as sooner," laughed the old cowboy. "I don't
take much to new-fangled notions. But orders is orders, I reckon."

"Oh, there isn't so much new at Flume Valley," said Bud. "All it ever
needed to make one of the best places in this part of the country for
raising cattle was water. Now, since dad had the big pipe flume put in
from Pocut River, where it can fill the reservoir and water the grass
and the cattle at the same time, things are going to boom!"

"They are to hear you tell 'em!" chuckled Billee. "Well, I wish you
all good luck, Bud, I'll help all I can. I'll be over to-night, if I
can make it, though it's some of a ride after a day's work."

"Oh, I won't expect you," said Bud. "I've got everything all laid out
for the camp there. Nort and Dick will be with me, but we'll be on the
lookout for you to-morrow. Bring what things you need, and some grub.
And if my mother has any pies baked, just pack a few of them."

"Only a _few_?" asked Billee, with a grin.

"As many as Nell will let you take," laughed Bud. "But there's Nort
and Dick! Whoop! Oh, boy! Come a-runnin'!" and the young rancher
beat a tattoo with his heels on the sides of his steed, and raced down
the slope toward two other lads who, like himself, were attired in
conventional western costume. Old Billee pulled his steed to a halt
and watched the greetings.

"It's a great thing to be young!" sighed the old man. "The greatest
thing in the world! But maybe I can do something yet! Only I don't
like that black jack--I shore don't! Never heard of anythin' but bad
luck followin' one of them nimble cusses! I don't like it for a cent!"

"Well, here we are!" cried Nort Shannon, flinging his broad-brimmed hat
into the air, and catching it on the end of his .45 before the
headpiece could touch the ground.

"Came right on time, too! Zip Foster couldn't 'a' made it better!"
joyously declared Bud, clapping his palm into that of Nort.

"Haven't you run him off the ranch yet?" asked the other lad, who was
rather short and stout, not to say fat.

"Run who off?" asked Bud.

"Zip Foster!" repeated Dick. "Last I heard of him----"

"Never mind _him_!" and Bud seemed somewhat annoyed at having mentioned
the name. "Oh, but I'm glad you fellows are here! Have a good trip?
Are you hungry? Did you have grub enough? Can you ride right out now?
How