dministered to the stranger, and when the fumes of it had
done their work the fluttering of his eyelids became stronger.

"He's comin' 'round," observed Billee who, with his two older
companions, had drawn nearer to observe what the boys were doing.

"Looks like you didn't call the turn on him after all," said Yellin'
Kid, for once in his life at least lowering his voice.

"I hope I didn't," said Billee. "I'd like him to pull through. Maybe
he can tell us what's wrong with Dot and Dash."

"Don't look like there was anything wrong," commented Snake, letting
his eyes rove away from the prostrate stranger to the wide reaches of
the ranch and the valley in which it was so snugly located. "This
seems to be a right proper place to raise cattle. I only wish it was
mine. I'm tired of being just a puncher. I'd like to own this place.
I think it's all bunk what you been tellin' us, Billee."

"You wait," was all Billee would reply. "You can't tell by squintin'
at a toad how much wool there is on him, and you can't give a ranch a
good name just by lookin' it over. You wait!"

By this time the ammonia had completed its work and restored to
consciousness the prostrate stranger. He was able to sit up now,
without being supported by Bud and his cousins. And as he supported
himself on one hand, while with the other he reached for his fallen
gun, he murmured:

"Who are you and what happened?"

"Stranger," pronounced Billee, who, by common consent seemed to be the
spokesman, "we can answer the first part of your question but not the
last. All we know is we arrived here to find you--er--stretched out
like you was takin' a sleep." Billee had a certain delicacy about
mentioning death, now that the man was so evidently alive.

"As for us, we're from Mr. Merkel's ranch--Diamond X--and we're sent
here to take charge of Dot and Dash. You may have heard of us and you
may not."

"Oh, yes, I've heard of you," was the somewhat unexpected answer. "In
fact I was waiting for you to come to take charge."

"Then you aren't a stranger here?" asked Bud.

"Well, I been here a few days, that's all. I was Mr. Barter's foreman
up to the time he quit, and sold out, so he told me. He asked me to
stay here and turn the place over to the new owner. Merkel--yes,
that's the name. I was away when the deal went through."

"I have the papers here," said Bud, reaching for the documents in his
pocket.

"'Tain't necessary. I'll take you