ting of the lonely owl, in some
willow or cottonwood tree near the base of the mountain; the far-off
howl of the prairie wolf; or the more discordant voice of the skulking
coyote--all these things were as familiar music in the ears of the boy
whose cradle had been the rich black earth of the grazing country ever
since he was old enough to remember anything.

They all did their share in lulling him to sleep. And, no doubt in
dreams, he was once more galloping across the wide prairie on the back
of his mount, his nostrils filled with the life-giving Sir of the
sage-covered level.

Frank slept, he never knew just how long.

This time it was not the rumbling sound and the fearful vibration of
the ground that aroused the two saddle boys; but a far different cause.

When Bob sat up he found his comrade already erect, and apparently
listening as though keenly alive to some approaching peril.

"Buckskin's uneasy, you see," remarked Frank in a whisper; "he's pawing
the ground and snorting as he always does when he scents danger."

As he said this, Frank dropped back again, and seemed to place his ear
to the ground, a trick known and practiced among the Indians from the
days of the early pioneers along the Ohio down to the present time;
since sound travels much better along the earth than through the
air--at least, in so far as the human ear, unaided by wireless
telegraph apparatus, is concerned.

"A bunch of horses coming out of the Northwest!" announced the prairie
boy, almost immediately; "and we can't get our nags muzzled any too
soon, Bob."

Apparently the other lad had been coached as to what this meant. He
sprang to his feet, snatching up his blanket as he did so. Together
they were off on the jump toward the spot where their animals had been
staked out at the end of the lariats.

Arriving at the pins which had been driven into the ground each boy
sought to clutch the rope that held his restlessly moving horse; and
hand over hand, they moved up on the animals, the blankets thrown over
their shoulders meanwhile.

A few low-spoken words served to partly soothe Buckskin and his black
mate; then the blankets were arranged about their heads, and secured in
such fashion that no unlucky snort or whinny might betray their
presence to those who passed by.

CHAPTER VII

THE RUSTLERS

At a word from his master the well trained Buckskin doubled up, and lay
down on the ground. Most cowboy ponies are taught to