"Ready for the first skirmish!" cried Old Billee.
"Let her come!" sang out Yellin' Kid.
Nearer to the edge of Spur Creek approached the sheep herders. The animals bleated and tried to turn back, but the dogs barked at them and snapping whips whirled viciously over their backs. Then, too, they were urged on with horses at their heels.
"They're coming right over," said Dick to his brother and cousin, the three boy ranchers being close together.
"And not one of 'em has a gun out," added Bud. "I reckon they are making this a sort of test so they can claim we fired on 'em first if it comes up in a law court. Well, we aren't exactly firing at 'em," he chuckled. "We're just stoning 'em."
"And we'd better begin to stone!" cried Nort.
He drew back the strong rubber bands of his sling. In the leather piece was a round pebble. Nort took aim at one of the approaching Mexicans.
The skirmishing was about to begin.