fence and now stopped in the darkness. Around the corner from them two men were talking. The girls recognized the voices of Mr. Wilson and Tom.

“I tell you it would be a perfect cover for Jim and me,” Tom was saying excitedly.

“But I don’t want to run the girls into danger,” Mr. Wilson insisted.

In the darkness Gale and Valerie exchanged wondering glances. Their curiosity was caught and without realizing they were doing so, they eavesdropped.

“No one would know,” Tom continued. “We could act as guides for the girls and at the same time perhaps discover a clue to the hideout of the rustlers.”

“But it is dangerous, Tom,” Mr. Wilson said slowly.

“Listen, Dad,” Tom said earnestly. “The rustlers have been stealing your cattle and a lot of other people’s for a long time, haven’t they?”

“Yes.”

“You admit that if a stop isn’t put to this robbing, soon it will ruin you?”

“I’m getting desperate,” Mr. Wilson agreed heavily, “But I can’t permit you or Jim or any of those girls to run the risk.”

“But I tell you there isn’t any risk,” Tom argued. “No one would ever suspect us. Even the girls won’t know. We will be just a camping party.”

“But if someone should find out what you are doing--you would have no protection, there would be nothing you could do.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Tom said. “Don’t you see, Dad? It is the best way to attempt to find the bandits. They would never suspect a party of girls.”

The two voices trailed away as Tom and his father moved toward the cowboys’ bunkhouse. The girls stood perfectly still until they saw the bunkhouse door opened and closed again behind the two.

“Well,” Valerie said, “it appears we are to be lures for rustlers.”

“I knew there was something wrong here at the K Bar O,” Gale said thoughtfully as the girls walked toward the house. “So it’s cattle thieves. No wonder Virginia’s mother and father look constantly worried. Even Virginia herself seems to be always watching for something when we are out riding.”

“We’d better say nothing to the others,” Valerie said as they mounted to the porch.

“No,” Gale agreed. “If Uncle finally agrees to let us go on the trip, we are not to let on we know what Tom and his cowboy friend are up to.”

“Just keep our eyes and ears open,” murmured Valerie.

The next morning at breakfast Tom announced to the girls that his father had agreed to the proposed camping trip. The news was received with whoops of joy from Janet and Carol. Gale and Valerie exchanged a quiet glance.

“We’ll take two tents for you girls,” Tom continued. “Jim, the rider who is going with us, and I will sleep in blankets. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

A clatter of hoofs and shouting outside brought them all away from the breakfast table. A rider was flinging himself from his weary horse. Both the rider and the horse looked played out.

“What’s up, Bert?” Mr. Wilson asked, striding from the ranch house and confronting the rider.

The others eagerly crowded forward, intending to miss not one word. From the man’s appearance and the appearance of his horse something important had happened.

“The two fellows who robbed the bank the other day broke outa jail last night and got clean away!” the rider said, mopping his face with a handkerchief. “I been out for hours with the Sheriff and his posse lookin’ for the trail. Didn’t come this way, did they?”

Mr. Wilson shook his head. “If they did, Bert, we didn’t see ’em. Come in and have some breakfast?”

“Shore will,” the man replied gratefully. “A fella gets all fired hungry ridin’ around.”

“Didn’t the thieves leave any trail at all?” Tom asked when the man had joined them and they were all seated once more about the table.

“Wal, son,” the rider said, “we figger they separated, one goin’ north and the other south. Leastways, they were seen apart. Hank Cordy saw one tryin’ to swim the creek. He chased him but the fella got away. That was the short, dark haired one. The tall one was seen ridin’ out this way.”

“If he passed the K Bar O none of us saw him,” Mr. Wilson declared.

“Wal,” the man sighed as he pushed his chair away from the table and the rest followed him into the ranch living room, “that was shore the most appetizin’ meal I ever ate. Reckon now I’ve got to be gettin’ along.”

“We’ll let you know if we see anything of the robbers,” Tom called after him.

Madge and Phyllis declared their intention of writing letters while Carol and Janet rode with Tom and Virginia out to the valley where the largest of the K Bar O’s herds was grazing. Valerie was not looking so well this morning and the other girls had coaxed her to lie down for a while. It would be a tragedy if she were not well enough for them to go on the proposed camping trip the next day.

Gale, rope in hand, found her way to the corral where Jim, she knew him by no other name, the cowboy who was to accompany the girls on their trip, was waiting to give her her first lesson with the use of her lasso. She learned first to make the slip knot, how to coil her rope, then how to grasp it for throwing.

“I never knew there was so much to it,” she declared after an hour had flown by.

“It won’t take you long to learn,” he assured her.

A little while later Mr. Wilson appeared and had an errand for Jim to do. Gale wandered off by herself across the valley and up the hillside. The sun was warm and it was tiring work climbing through the grass and tangled undergrowth, so when she came to a tree which offered a large patch of shade from the sun she sank down to rest. Pretty soon she lay back, her arms under her head, gazing up at the little spot of blue sky that she could see through the branches of the tree.

Gale did not know when she fell asleep or for how long she slept, but when she opened her eyes the sun was blazing down into her face. It must be hours she thought instantly since she had sat down here to rest for a few minutes. Then the thought of what had awakened her made her prop herself up on an elbow and gaze around.

Her throat went suddenly dry and a half smothered scream rose to her lips. It had been a heavy pressure on her right leg that had brought her back from her dreams, and now as she looked down at her foot horror overcame her. Its scaly body wound about her boot, the flat head swaying from side to side, was a huge rattlesnake. Gale dropped back on the grass with closed eyes, trying to erase from her mind the sight of that reptile, the bite of which meant death.

What was she to do? Scream? There was no one about to hear her. She was too far from the ranch house to summon help by calling aloud. Raising her head a few inches she took one look and let it drop back again. The gimlet eyes of the snake were coming closer. It would not be long before it struck, or had it done so already? It could scarcely send its poisonous fangs through her heavy boot, she reminded herself desperately. But what was she to do? Nothing, she told herself hopelessly, a sinking in her heart. There was nothing she could do. She might struggle for her freedom, but she could not hope to avoid the darting, poisonous fangs of the snake. It would surely strike soon, and when it did----

She caught her underlip between two rows of white teeth to quell the groan of helplessness. Tears of impotence sprang to her eyes. If only there were something she could do--some way she could---- Was it her imagination or did she