"An old man, half crazy; eh?" mused Billee as he listened. "Who is he
and what about him?"

"Doesn't seem to amount to much, really," stated Nort. "But I thought
we'd better have this stuff analyzed."

"Sure!" assented Billee, and, taking the three bottles he locked them
in a wall cupboard and put the key in his pocket.

There was much to talk about at Dot and Dash that night. Nort related
the coming and going of the vender of Life's Elixer, and on their part
Bud and Dick told of the scenes about the ranch, and added to their
first statements that it was an ideal place to raise cattle.

"And there weren't any signs of sudden deaths?" asked Nort.

"Nary a one. It's a shame to call this Death Valley," declared Bud.

The week that followed was a busy one and there was plenty of work for
all hands, including Sam Tarbell who, when he found that there was no
sudden passing away of any of his new friends or the remaining cattle,
decided to stay and work for Dot and Dash.

A careful examination was made in the vicinity where Sam had "keeled
over," as he expressed it, and where his horse had died. Nothing
suspicious was discovered, however, and there was no way to account for
the strange happening. The animal appeared to have died a natural
death.

"Of course," Sam said, "my pony might of dropped dead from heart
disease, and when he fell I was throwed off and hit my head on a rock.
That's what might have knocked me out."

"It's very possible," agreed Bud.

Arrangements were under way for the purchase of two herds from ranchmen
in the adjoining county, and several more cowboys had been engaged
when, like a clap of thunder out of a clear sky, it happened.

Bud, Nort and Dick were riding over to the south end of the ranch one
day, to inspect the present herd, with a view to shifting it, when Nort
pointed to what looked like several dark bowlders on a distant, grassy
slope.

"What are those?" he asked. "Big stones?"

"Stones?" queried Bud and, a moment later, he exclaimed, "Those are
dead cattle! Boys, I guess the jinx has come back!"

CHAPTER XI

INTO SMUGGLERS' GLEN

"Hop to it, boys!" cried Nort, as he dug his spurs lightly against the
sides of his pony. The spurs were blunt ones, for Mr. Merkel insisted
that his men treat their horses kindly, and the spurs were such in name
only. However, even these gentle ticklers indicated to Nort's animal
the need of haste and it leaped ahead.

"Come on!"