“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” remarked Billie, after there had been a little interval of silence, while every one seemed to be busy with thoughts of his own.

“Better ease your mind, then, Billie, and let us hear what’s bothering you,” said Donald, with a smile; for he was used to the ways of his cousin, and knew that whenever anything did worry the fat chum he had a regular bulldog method of keeping everlastingly at the matter until he had smoothed the tangle out, fairly well at least.

“Yes,” added Adrian, “you know we’re always willing to oblige you with whatever information we happen to have ourselves, so don’t be bashful, Billie.”

“Well, it’s just this,” and the other lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper, as though not wanting to take any chances of the prisoners catching a single word of what he meant to say, “what are we agoing to do with that crowd when morning comes along? Somebody give me the answer, please.”

“Why, we don’t want to be bothered with the lot any longer than we can help,” Donald told him; “and that being the case we’ll decide on how we’d better turn ’em loose, minus their guns, of course.”

“Huh! that might mean you’d let ’em have their ponies, I reckon?” pursued Billie.

“Well, it’s considered a cruelty out here on the plains to take a man’s cayuse away from him,” said Donald; “and because they’re a pack of cattle rustlers hadn’t ought to make us covet their mounts, I take it. See here, what’s ailing you, Billie; you’ve sure got a bee in your bonnet right now? I hope you haven’t got an eye on one of their hosses, that buckskin p’raps, and think it’d about be in your class?”

Billie shook his head slowly.

“You wrong me, Donald, sure you do,” he observed, mournfully, as he gave his cousin a reproachful look; “I was only trying to do the thinking for the bunch for once. And I’ll tell you what occurred to me if you want me to.”

“Of course we do, old fellow, and we’ll thank you for doing it, too!” exclaimed Adrian, warmly.

“Same here, Billie!” echoed the other chum.

“All right,” Billie went on to say, still in that low, mysterious way; “then listen here, fellows. Now, it’s going to take us quite some time to drive this lot of steers and cows back to where they came from, I take it?”

“Sure thing,” remarked Adrian, encouragingly, when Billie stopped his explanation as though seeking confirmation of his statement.

“Well, supposing then, we turned these rustlers loose about the time we started, and gave ’em to understand we’d shoot the first fellow we saw dodging after us, what d’ye s’pose they’d be apt to do in that case? Why, make a bee-line for where they could find another batch of their breed, and fetch the whole gang awhooping after us. We might find a dozen or two tough punchers closing in on us long before we could get to the Bar-S Ranch buildings. How’s that?”

“Say, there’s a whole lot in what you say, Billie,” admitted Donald, thoughtfully.

“And it’s got to be threshed out while we sit here, too,” added Adrian. “I’ve a plan in mind right now that might fill the bill.”

“Then for goodness’ sake let’s hear it!” begged Billie, eagerly.

“When we leave here in the morning we won’t untie the rustlers at all, only one fellow, who can accompany us on our ride,” pursued the owner of the ranch from which the cattle in the coulie had been stolen and stampeded.

“But hold on,” remarked tender-hearted Billie, “wouldn’t it be kind o’ cruel to leave the lot here, tied hand and foot? What if nobody came along, and they had to just roll around here all the time? Say, it’s _aw_ful to get hungry, and as for me I wouldn’t want my worst enemy to be kept from his feed for even one whole day. I can’t imagine any suffering so terrible; and you wouldn’t think of trying such punishment even on cattle rustlers, would you, Adrian? They’re human after all, even if they are bad men.”

“You didn’t let me finish what I was going to say, Billie,” observed the ranch boy, quietly. “Didn’t you hear me tell how we’d take one of them along on his pony, picking out the meekest of the bunch, if there’s any choice about that, so we can make him help drive the cattle, and one of us could keep close to him all the time.”

“Yes, yes, go on, please, Ad, I’m following you,” said the fat chum.

“When we had gone far enough, miles and miles from here, so that we knew we’d soon strike the ranch buildings,” continued Adrian, “why, then we could turn him loose, and let him gallop back here to set his pards free.”

“Oh! I get on to what you mean!” declared Billie, admiringly; “by that time they just couldn’t give us any bother, even if they did hurry away to find the rest of the ugly Walker crowd! That’s a fine scheme of yours, Adrian. Ain’t it funny now, with all my thinking that never came into my mind? But count on me agreeing with you, Adrian. It couldn’t be bettered, no matter how much I badgered my head over the business. And Donald here says the same, don’t you, old fellow?”

“I sure do that same,” Donald was quick to say; “and I think that our chum has covered the ground the best ever.”

“There’s another thing I’ve decided on,” Adrian went on to remark, encouraged by the success of his first proposition.

“Let’s have it then,” Billie begged him; “might as well hear all these bully ideas in a heap while we’re ready to take a shock; and you do beat the world on thinking up things, Adrian, that’s right.”

“The very first chance I get I mean to send word to the sheriff of this county as the owner of Bar-S Ranch, and demand that he come to my place instanter with a posse behind him, ready to break up this rustler business. Those cowboys told us a new sheriff had just taken office, and they kind of hoped he wouldn’t be like the last one, right under the thumb of these terrible Walkers. Fact is, they seemed to have an idea he stood ready to do his duty the first time any ranchman got nerve enough to call on him to break the gang up. And I’m going to be that rancher to take the bull by the horns!”

He did not say this boastingly, nor was his voice elevated so that the listening prisoners might hear his words; but as he spoke there was a determined look on Adrian’s face that told Donald, who knew him so well, he had never been more earnest in all his life than when he made this bold assertion looking to throwing down the glove of defiance to the Walkers.

“A great scheme, Adrian,” Donald remarked, and his manner told even more than his few words.

“Don’t talk louder than we are now,” said Billie just then; “because I saw one of them fellows bob his head up like he was mighty curious to know what we had our heads together for.”

The three Broncho Rider Boys continued to confer for some time longer. Billie was holding out manfully, but every now and then he would stretch his mouth in a dreadful way, as the irresistible impulse to yawn came upon him.

“Better lie down in your blanket, Billie,” remarked Adrian, taking pity on the stout chum; because he knew Billie’s failings, and sleeping was one of them.

“Yes,” added Donald, who would rather see the other snuggled in the folds of his blanket than sitting there with his hands embracing his knees, thinking up a host of questions between yawns; “we’ll do all that’s necessary to keep things going; and if we have any need of your help, why we promise to call on you.”

“Well,” said Billie, “in that case p’raps I might take a few winks of sleep, because that gallop did kind of knock me up. But remember, I depend on your word of honor to give me a punch if I’m needed.”

After that they heard nothing further from Billie, save an occasional heavy sigh resembling a snore, whenever he chanced to lie on his back. He was dead to the world in three minutes after lying down, with his warm blanket wrapped around his ample proportions, much after the manner in which he had seen Indians do at the quaint Zuni cliff dwellers’ village in Arizona, visited by the three boys before coming up to Wyoming.

About half an hour after this Adrian thought they would do well to examine their prisoners, in order to make sure that their bonds were holding out securely. They did not profess to have had a great deal of experience in fastening up fellows, and during the time that had elapsed possibly one of the men might have succeeded in gnawing his bonds partly through, or working them loose.

So Donald and Adrian took the flashlight torch, and went over each of the prisoners’ bonds. They found them just as secure as when first triced up, which was to the credit of the young captors, to be sure.

The man whom they had decided must be the leader of the quartette, was staring hard at Adrian all the time the boys hovered over their prisoners. Evidently he must have begun to entertain certain suspicions with regard to the other.

“Say, hain’t I seen ye before now, younker?” he finally asked, pointedly.

“I don’t know,” replied Adrian, “but I can’t remember of ever meeting you, up to now.”

“Might your name be Sherwood?” the other insisted; “and hain’t ye the kid that years ago used ter ride ’round hyah on a calico pony, when the ole man was alive, an’ ran Bar-S Ranch? I heard ’em call yuh Adreen a while ago, an’ ’pears tuh me as how thet same war the name o’ thet lively boy. Air you him?”

Adrian did not see fit to answer. He could not deny the accusation, and there would be no good end served in acknowledging it; though of course the man would construe his silence to mean assent, and understand things accordingly. But perhaps it might be as well that the Walkers knew the true owner of Bar-S Ranch had come to town to take possession of his own, and clear up this strange tangle that seemed to have possession of his property, under Uncle Fred Comstock, who had taken to himself a wife, and she connected with the Walker tribe.

The boys went back to the dwindling fire, to sit the night out. They did not try to keep up much of a blaze, lest it serve to draw enemies to the spot; but sitting in the shadows, they held their rifles in readiness, and occasionally exchanged a few words as the minutes dragged slowly by.

Finally in the far east appeared the first faint streaks that told of coming day and the pair of weary watchers welcomed their arrival with positive relief, for it would mean a change, and action.