There was not much trouble. The cattle had been watered and fed, and were in prime condition. At noon a halt was made to save the animals during the excessive heat, but toward evening they started off once more, and traveled until darkness fell. Camp was made again out in the open.
During the day no signs were seen of any rustlers, or other suspicious characters, and at night the young ranchers and the older cowboys took turns riding herd and standing guard.
But nothing of moment occurred, the only sounds, aside from those made by the cattle themselves, being the unearthly yells and howls of the coyotes.
In less than three days the bunch of cattle was safely delivered at the yards, where the responsibility of Bud and his companions ended, the buyer taking charge of them for shipment.
"Did you get the rustlers, Dad?" asked Bud as he and his cousins, with Dirk and Chot, rode up to the ranch buildings after their successful trip.
"No," answered Mr. Merkel, who was out waiting for his son and the others. "They got clean away."
"Did you see who they were?" asked Dirk.
"Well, I have my suspicions," answered the ranchman. "And I'm not through yet. How'd you make out, boys?"
They told him of the night scare and Dick's narrow escape, and the eyes of Bud's father glinted in anger.
"Up to tricks like that, are they?" he exclaimed. "Well, I'd like to catch 'em at it!"