"Kill who? What's the matter? What sort of help do you need?" asked Bud quickly, while Nort and Dick looked at the excited man. He bore none of the marks of the west. His garb was of the East as his riding had been, though he sat a fairly good saddle, or he never could have ridden at the speed he did. But he had a good horse. Even Dick and Nort knew enough about animals to tell that. The pony, his sides heaving and his nostrils distended, gave this not altogether mute evidence of his race against time.
"It's Professor Wright," came the panting answer. "He's off there—with his prospecting party. I'm his assistant!"
"I thought he looked like a professor," murmured Dick to Nort.
"Keep still!" sharply commanded Nort.
"I am Professor J. Elwell Blair," went on the still greatly excited rider, "an assistant to Professor Wright. We are camped about three miles from here, over there," and he waved his hand toward where Bud and Slim, on their homeward ride, had seen the wisp of smoke. "Some Mexicans threaten to attack us," went on the man who called himself Professor Blair. "In fact they had already started when Professor Wright bade me ride for help. We knew there was a ranch over in this direction. Can you send us help?" he asked anxiously.
"Sure!" exclaimed Bud.
"Oh, if your father were only here!" murmured Mrs. Merkel.
"Our boys are enough!" declared Nell, with sparkling eyes. "I wish I might go!" she added. "Can't I?"
"No indeed!" declared her mother. "The idea! You must take Slim with you!" she called after Bud, for he was already half way down the lane leading to the corral, calling on Professor Blair to follow, and shouting to Nort and Dick:
"Come on, if you want to see some lively doings!" Bud invited.