admiration. "I'd stake Cowboy Dave ag'in' any man you've got ridin' range
to-day. That's what I would!"

"Thanks, Pete," said the youth, with a warm smile.

"Well, that's the truth, Dave. You took to this business like a duck takes
to water, though the land knows there ain't any too much water in these
parts for ducks."

"Yes, we could use more, especially at this season," Mr. Carson admitted.
"Rolling River must be getting pretty dry; isn't it, Dave?"

"I've seen it wetter, Dad. And there's hardly any water in Forked Branch.
I don't see how the stray cattle get enough to drink."

"It is queer they'd be off up that way," observed Pete. "But that might
account for it," he went on, as though communing with himself.

"Account for what?" asked Dave, as he sat down in a chair on the porch.

"Th' rustlers. If they were up Forked Branch way they'd stand between th'
strays and th' cattle comin' down where they could get plenty of water in
Rolling River. That's worth lookin' into. I'll ride up that way with you
to-morrow, Dave, an' help drive in them cattle."

"Will you, Pete? That will be fine!" the young cowboy exclaimed. Evidently
there was a strong feeling of affection between the two. Dave looked to
Mr. Carson for confirmation.

"Very well," the ranch owner said, "you and Pete may go, Dave. But don't