"Guess he didn't expect to see us," added Dick.
"Say!" suddenly exclaimed Nort, urging his horse against Bud's in his eagerness and excitement, "maybe he was one of the cattle rustlers, Bud! He circled around and rode back after he found he couldn't get away with the steers, and that Babe was on his trail. That's what it is!"
"No," spoke Bud, quietly. "There's something queer about that man—Professor Wright as he calls himself—but he isn't the kind that rustles cattle. Cattle thieves don't make a permanent camp. They're wanderers—mostly Greasers, Indians and half breeds, with a bad white man mixing in—and they don't stay long in one place."
"Don't you think he had anything to do with trying to drive off your cattle?" asked Nort.
"Well, you can't be altogether sure of anything in this world," half drawled Bud, "but it doesn't seem reasonable."
"But he came from the direction to where those men ran that were driving away the cattle," said Dick. "Wonder if he met Babe?"
"You can ask him," said Bud. "Here comes Babe now."
The two other lads were not aware of the approach of the assistant foreman of Diamond X, but Bud's quick ears had caught the faint sound of the horse's feet approaching, and in another moment Babe rode up from a little clump of greasewood shrubs, which growth, to the eastern lads, had resembled sumac at first.
"Find 'em, Babe?" asked Bud in a low voice.
"Nope! They razzled off 'fore I could get up to 'em. All right here?" he asked, though a look convinced him there had been no serious trouble, at least.