heard enough to enable him to give the rancher a timely warning of
what they proposed to do.

The lad knew what that meant. It meant trouble. His sympathies had
been largely with the cattle men--he had looked down on the sheep
industry and for the reason that he knew only what the cattle men
had told him about it.

At that moment Tad Butler was experiencing a change of heart. That
they could plan ruthlessly to slaughter the inoffensive little
animals passed his comprehension. A remark below him caused the lad
to prick up his ears and listen intently.

"As I came over the Little Muddy this afternoon, I thought I saw
some sort of a camp in the foothills," said a voice. "Thought mebby
that might be the outfit, though I couldn't see what they were doing
on that side of the range."

"Oh," laughed the big man, "I know the one you mean. Yes, I took a
look at that outfit myself."

"Oh, he did, eh? Wonder we didn't see him," grunted Tad, realizing
that the men referred to the camp of the Pony Riders. "There was
something besides bears around there, I see."

"Find out what it was!"

"Yes, it seemed to be a camp of boys. There was only one man in the
bunch so far as I could see. He was a tall gent with whiskers that
hadn't been shaved for two weeks o' Sundays."