got from the gov'ment lately to decorate
the meetin' room. I reckon they'd be fresh, with charcoal in and
everything needed."

"Will you see if you can get some for us?" asked Billee, who was in
charge during the forced absence of Bud.

"Sure!"

"Good!" cried Nort. "Then we'll come back and have another go at these
fellows!"

"Yes, it will need another go," remarked Billee, looking at the
entrance to the defile out of which a faint mist was still floating.
"We don't dare go back at 'em now, unprotected. They're regular
devils, that's what they are! Devils!"

"Wonder what their game is?" mused Dick as he and his brother, with the
other cowboys, moved to where their horses were picketed in charge of
the guard.

"They want to keep us out of that glen," suggested Nort.

"But why?" went on Dick.

"So they can poison more cattle and bust up this ranch and rustle what
stock they don't kill," was what Nort answered.

"It doesn't seem reasonable that they'd poison cattle," and Dick shook
his head. "What good would dead ones be to them? They can't be sold,
and it wouldn't pay to kill 'em just for the hides."

"No, that's so," admitted Nort. "But they evidently want to keep us
out of that glen, and drive us away from the ranch if possible, so they
can have it for themselves."

"Part of that seems like to be true," spoke Billee, taking a part in
the discussion. "But this isn't the first time there have been queer
doings at Dot and Dash. Years ago I'm pretty sure there was no band of
devils up here with cylinders of gas. This is something new."

"Tell me, Billee," resumed Nort, "on what sections of the ranch did
most of the deaths occur--I mean when you worked here?"

"Well," and the veteran scratched his head reflectively, "as near as I
can remember they was all somewhere near this glen, come to think of
it."

"And this is where Sam Tarbell's horse was killed and where Sam was
knocked out--near this glen; wasn't it?" went on Nort.

"That's true enough."

"And it's from this glen that Bud got his dose of poison gas and where,
just now, we got ours; isn't it?"

"Sure," Billee was forced to say.

"Well, then," went on Nort, "isn't it reasonable to suppose that this
band--or some bunch like it--has been doing this right along?"

Here Billee shook his head.

"You can't make me believe," he said, "that this gang, or one like it,
has been doin' this gas business all along. In the first place the
ear