ruck 'em," suggested Nort.

"Lightning leaves a mark," Billee replied. "Besides, these things--I
mean the deaths--would happen in clear weather. We didn't have many
storms, though lightning did kill some cows and I remember one puncher
who cashed in his chips that way. He was a nasty looking object, too,
let me tell you. But Death Valley don't depend on lightning to get
you. There's some other way."

"Well, we're going to find out what it is!" declared Bud and his
cousins backed him up so forcefully that, in the end, Mr. Merkel at
last consented to the boy ranchers going to Dot and Dash, at least to
look the place over.

"I'm not going to ask you to try and sell it for me, so I won't be
stuck," the ranchman said after his decision was made. "I'm not going
to palm off a death-dealing place on somebody the way Barter, so it
appears, loaded me up with it. But I don't yet admit anything is
wrong. However, if you boys find there is, just close up shop and
we'll forget it."

"No, Dad, we won't!" said Bud in a low voice, but with great
determination.

"What'll you do then?"

"We'll find that death-dealing ghost and lay him, or her or whatever it
is!" cried the lad.

"And we'll be with you from the drop of the hat until the last gun is
fired," cried Nort, while Dick nodded his agreement.

"Well, I like to hear you talk that way," Mr. Merkel said. "But I do
hope nothing happens," he added anxiously, when the boys left to make
preparations for taking the trail to Death Valley.

"Something is bound to happen!" said Billee, who had been present when
the decision was made. "But maybe these boys'll be able to beat the
game. They cleaned up the Chinese smugglers and beat the rustlers, so
they may cheat this mysterious death--whatever it is."

"Hush!" warned Mr. Merkel, for the old man, in the rancher's private
office, had spoken rather loudly. "I don't want my wife and Nell to
hear. They'd never let the boys go, and I'm not sure I should, either."

"I'm going to be with them," Billee said, as if that meant a lot, and
it really did.

"I'll send Yellin' Kid and Snake Purdee, too," decided Mr. Merkel.

"Yes," agreed Billee, "and it's going to be hard to beat that bunch.
Well, maybe the curse has died out, but I'm afraid not--I'm afraid
not," he added with an ominous shake of his head as he went to the
corral to arrange about selecting the horses for the coming trip.

Los Pompan was about a week's ride, by e