r than down in the
valley.

But if they hoped to discover any incriminating evidence at Hank
Fisher's place they were disappointed.

There was no sign of Del Pinzo--in fact that wily Mexican half-breed
was seldom at the ranch proper. Nor was Hank at home. But his foreman
met the boys and Old Billee.

"Hear about the racket over at our place?" asked Bud, easily enough,
but with a beating heart. He and his cousins looked around for any
signs of wounded men, but saw none.

"What racket?" asked Ike Johnson, the foreman.

"Rustlers," put in Old Billee. "They scratched me, shot up Snake
Purdee and dropped this--or at least we found this after the mix-up
when we'd druv 'em off!" and he took the branding iron from Bud's
saddle loop.

"You don't mean to say----" began Ike, with an ugly tone to his voice.

"Don't mean t' say nawthin'!" drawled Old Billee. "That's one of your
irons, I take it."

"Yes, it is," growled the foreman slowly. "But that don't mean----"

"Course it don't!" pleasantly interrupted the old cowboy, giving the
young ranchers a slight signal to let him do the talking. "One of your
boys dropped it, likely, ridin' short-cut across our place, Ike."

"Yes, I remember now, Ed Carr said he lost his. This is it," and the
foreman of Double Z pointed to the initials.

"Well, tell Ed--is he here now?" asked Billee, interrupting himself.

For an instant--and for an instant only--Ike Johnson hesitated. Then
he answered:

"No, Ed's ridin' line. I'll give him this when he comes in."

"All right," spoke Billee, with a smile. "We was just passin' and
stopped with it. How's things, Ike?" he asked with an effort to be
friendly.

"Oh, so-so! Might be wuss, an' might be a hull lot better."

"I reckon it's that way all over," Billee made answer. "Well, boys,"
he resumed, "might as well ride back. You gittin' all the water you
can use from Pocut River, ain't you, Ike?" he asked, turning in his
saddle.

"Better ask th' boss about that," was the sullen retort. "I reckon
he'll have suthin' t' say, soon, that you Diamond X folks won't like!"

"Is that a threat?" asked Bud quickly.

"Easy, son, easy!" cautioned Old Billee.

"You can make anythin' yo' like of it!" sneered the Double Z foreman.

And then the boy ranchers and Old Billee rode off.

"Well, we didn't find out much," said Nort, when they were on the
homeward trail.

"No, but we let 'em know we found that branding iron, and that we k