Billee
Dobb.

"Sure," assented the ranchman. "More of my wife's than mine, but it's
all the same. They were coming here on a visit, coming all the way
from California by auto. I thought it was rather risky when they first
wrote of it, but my wife says Rosemary is a good driver, and Floyd
almost as good."

"Is he a Westerner?" asked Yellin' Kid.

"Not born and raised here," said Mr. Merkel, "but Floyd is no
tenderfoot, and as for Rosemary--"

"She's a whole can of peaches! That's what she is!" cried Bud. "To
have the nerve to stop and scribble a message to dad when the Yaquis
had her and her brother. Clear grit I call that!"

"Sure thing!" assented Nort.

"Gee! I wish I'd been there!" sighed Dick.

"What! To be captured by the Indians and made into sausage meat?"
joked Mr. Merkel, for at times they poked a bit of fun at Dick on
account of his plumpness. Though, truth to tell, he was now not too
stout, and the life of the west had greatly hardened him.

"They wouldn't have caught me without a fight!" he bruskly declared.

"That's right! A fight!" cried Bud. "What are we going to do about
this, Dad? We can't let our cousins be carried off this way; can we,
fellows?" he demanded of his boy rancher companions.

"I should say not!" was the instant response, duet fashion.

"No, it wouldn't be right for us to sit back and do nothing," agreed
Mr. Merkel. "There aren't any too many men available to help out the
sheriff. We've got to do our share. Get ready boys!" and he looked at
his son and nephews, his glance also roving over his own aggregation of
cowboys, most of whom were now gathered in front of the main ranch
building of Diamond X.

"Where are we going?" asked Dick.

"On the trail of the Yaquis!" answered his uncle. "We can spare most
of the bunch, now that the round-up is over. You don't need many out
at your ranch, Bud. Call in all you can spare, and we'll hit the
trail!"

"Whoo-pee!" shouted Nort, whirling his horse about and setting it at a
gallop down through the corrals.

"This is news!" yelled his brother, following the lead of Nort.

"I only hope we aren't too late!" remarked Bud, when his cousins came
back to join him.

"Too late? What do you mean!" asked Nort.

"I mean to save Rosemary--and Floyd. Those Yaquis--they're regular
devils when they get on the war path! Oh, I hope we aren't too late!"

It was a hope the others shared.

Rapid action replaced the comparati