"Well, I can't promise anything like that—with cattle rustling and digging up animals ten million years old," laughed Bud. "But I think we might have a little excitement."
"How?" asked Nort and Dick eagerly.
"Tell you later," promised Bud.
They rode on, talking over old times and planning new ones, and as the shadows began to lengthen they rode down into a triangular valley, at one end of which a rude dam could be noticed, while, scattered over the green carpeted floor, were hundreds of grazing cattle.
"Say, this is some slick place!" cried Dick.
"The best ever!" affirmed Nort. "And is this where we are to camp and ranch it?"
"Right here," declared Bud. "Course we haven't any ranch house yet. But we've got a tent—there it is," and he pointed to a white canvas shelter not far from the dam.
"A tent! Oh, boy! better and better!" yelled Dick, as he urged his pony forward.
As the three boy ranchers neared their headquarters, represented by two or three tents grouped together, there emerged from among them the figure of a man on horseback.
"There's old Buck Tooth," said Bud.