in others.

On up to the ranch rode the cavalcade, the thoughts of the boys busy
with many things. It was rather a tamer entry than they had counted on
after Billee's stories and the receipt of the two dramatic warnings.

"Guess we aren't going to have any trouble after all," said Dick as
they rode their horses to the hitching rail, made the reins fast and
dismounted to enter the main house.

"It's quiet enough," said Nort

"'Tis, for a fact," echoed Bud. "Doesn't seem to be anybody around
here for me to serve my possession papers on!" he chuckled. "Hello!
Anybody home?" he called loudly.

There was no answer save the echoes of his voice through the rambling
building.

"Give 'em a call, Kid, you can make yourself heard," suggested Snake,
and the yeller let out a ringing shout.

Still there was no reply and the silence was beginning to get on the
nerves of the boys when Billee, who had been roaming around, came in
with a queer look on his face.

"What's the matter?" asked Bud.

"There's a dead man outside in the yard," was the quiet answer of the
veteran puncher.

CHAPTER VII

SAM TARBELL'S STORY

This news, so startling, coming as it did after the strange silence
that seemed to wrap Dot and Dash in a pall, and following the talk that
had been going on the last few days concerning the sinister aspect of
the situation, was enough to startle any one. And the boy ranchers
were no exception.

"A dead man?" gasped Bud.

"Who is he?" Nort wanted to know.

"Who killed him?" was Dick's question.

To these inquiries Old Billee Dobb returned no answer. As for Yellin'
Kid and Snake Purdee, they just stood in the middle of the deserted
living room of the ranch house and stared at the old puncher. Death
did not frighten, nor was it anything new to the cowboys. Yet Billee's
news was startling.

"Let's go have a look at him," suggested Yellin' Kid, in no whit
lowering his voice as he might reasonably be expected to do under the
circumstances. "Where is he? Do you know him, Billee?"

"Never saw him this side of sole leather as far as I know," answered
the veteran. "But he's out there by the corral, and here's another
thing. If we're going to turn our ponies loose into that same corral
the fence has got to be mended. 'Twon't hold a yearling as it is now."

"That can be 'tended to later," remarked Snake. "Let's go have a look
at this poor gazaboo you say has cashed in."

"It looks as if Death