He listened for a moment and then called:
"We'll be right over!"
Hanging up the receiver with a bang on the hook, Bud hurried out of the shed and cried:
"They're at it again! Rustlers just cut out a bunch at North Station and they're hazing 'em off!"
"Whew!" whistled Mr. Merkel. "This is getting serious!"
Little time was lost. Instead of stopping for a "bite," the boy ranchers and their companions hastily swallowed some coffee that "Ma" Merkel and Nell made ready for them. Some "grub" was hastily packed, for the expedition might be out all night—very likely would—and then, saddles, girths and guns having been hastily inspected, the cowboys set forth.
To the bunch that had been on guard at Spur Creek was added some other punchers from Diamond X—as many as could be spared. This was not a large number, for, as Mr. Merkel had said, he had sent some of his men to drive his shipment of steers to the railroad.
This latest raid, word of which had been telephoned in from a distant place by a cowboy who had witnessed it, had taken place at what was called "North Station." This was a sort of auxiliary ranch Mr. Merkel had started when he secured more range land in the spring. By pasturing some cattle around there, several miles were saved in shipping his steers after fattening them up. And, as I have told you, nothing so soon takes valuable fat off cattle as driving them long distances to feed, to water or to a shipping point.
The boy ranchers knew little of North Station, having been there but once, though the trail to it was plain. And as they rode they talked of what might have taken place there.
"Guess whoever was in charge wasn't keepin' a very good lookout, or he'd have stopped the rustlers," observed Snake Purdee.