seemed to realize that their desperate
plan had failed, for, so far, not a beef had fallen. And the Greasers,
off to one side, dared not try to cut out, and run off, any animals.
To have ventured into the midst of that charging herd would have been
madness.

"Come on! Let's see if we can turn 'em!" urged Bud, drawing his gun,
an example followed by Nort and Dick. Led by the son of the owner of
Diamond X, the boy ranchers charged down on the oncoming herd, from
which they had just ridden away. But now they had the advantage. They
stood a better chance. If they could turn the leaders, sending them in
a circle, the other animals would follow, and soon the whole bunch
would be "milling," which is the most desired way to stop a stampede.

"Come on! Come a ridin'! Whoop-ee!" shrilly cried Bud, yelling,
waving his hat in one hand and firing in the air with his gun. Nort
and Dick did likewise. Straight at the cattle they rode.

It was a desperate chance, but one that had to be taken. Bud knew, if
the others did not, that about a mile beyond lay a gully, led up to by
a cliff, and if the steers and cows reached this, the leaders unable to
stop, while the rear ranks pushed on, there would be a mass of
piled-up, dead cattle to tell the story.

"We've got to stop 'em!" shouted Bud.

And stop them, or, rather, turn them, the boy ranchers did. Just when
it seemed that the wild animals would rush over, and trample down the
three lads, the foremost of the steers turned at a sharp angle, their
hoofs skidding in the soil, and swung around.

"Now we've got 'em!" cried Bud. "Make 'em mill! Make 'em mill!"

And this is what the cattle did. Around and around they ran, in a big,
dusty circle, while the other Diamond X cowboys rode up.

"That was touch and go," said one of the older riders, when the herd
was comparatively quiet. "What started 'em off, Bud?"

"Didn't you see that bunch of Greasers?" asked the rancher's son.

The cowboys had not, it developed, and now, when the three boys tried
to point out the rascals the quartette was not in sight. However,
something else took the attention of Bud and the older cowboys. This
something was a small bunch of steers, galloping off by themselves, but
not being hazed by any riders.

"We can't lose them!" shouted Bud. "They belong to dad! Got to get
'em back!"

"We'll go after 'em," offered Nort and Dick. "We can bring 'em back."

"Yes, I reckon you can, while we ri