"Well, that's good and plenty!" cried Nort.
"Didn't you stop to see if those men were still there, and what they were doing?" asked Dick.
"No, I didn't feel able," Bud answered wearily. "All I wanted to do was get out, find my horse and ride back to the ranch. But where is Star?" the young rancher suddenly asked, looking around.
"He's safe in the corral," Dick answered. "We found him wandering around without his bridle on when we went to look for you late yesterday afternoon."
"He must have pulled away from the tree where I had him tied and yanked the bridle off that way," Bud said.
"Horses an' bridles ain't much account now!" declared Billee. "The main thing is about these darn varmints that treated Bud so. Who do you think they were—I mean what sort of scamps?" asked the old ranch hand, and he fingered his gun, which several other cowboys were doing.
"I think they were cattle rustlers," answered Bud, who seemed to be feeling better each moment. "They must have been hiding in the cave waiting for a chance to drive off some of our stock, when their plans were spoiled by my happening along."
"That's probably it," agreed Nort. "But what about that soda water cylinder you say they shot at you?"
"I wouldn't call it soda water," stated Bud with a grim smile. "But it contained some sort of gas and they must have shot it at me for it knocked me out."
"How was it they could turn a stream of poison gas, or at least knock-out gas, on you, Bud, and not suffer from it themselves?" asked Dick.