"Bridle's gone; eh?" remarked d.i.c.k as he cantered up alongside his brother and the captured horse. "That looks bad."

"Unless Bud took it off himself, to let his pony graze in more comfort."

"He wouldn't do that without hobbling him, and look--there's his rope."

d.i.c.k pointed to the coils on the saddle horn.

"Then what happened? Is there any----"

Nort did not like to use the word "blood," but that is what he implied.

And his brother knew the thought--that Bud might have been shot by some rustlers or roving desperados and so had been dropped from the saddle.

But there were no evidences of foul play, and no signs of a struggle.

No marks showed on the pony, either.

"Well, this sure is a mystery!" exclaimed Nort when the casual examination, was over. "What has become of Bud?"

"That's what I'd like to know," echoed d.i.c.k. "What's the next move?"

"Better go back and tell some of the boys. We'll have to organize a search."

"Guess that's the only thing to do," admitted d.i.c.k. "Gosh! The jinx was only on a vacation. Now it's back in full force."

"Oh, I wouldn't go thinking the worst--not yet a while," urged Nort as they started back for the ranch, leading Bud's mount by a rope around his neck. "Something might have given Bud a fall and his pony might have run away. Then Bud may have met some cowboys who loaned him a mount to get back on. He may be back at the ranch when we get there."

But d.i.c.k shook his head over this theory.

"If Bud had ridden back on a borrowed horse we'd have seen him, sure!"

he declared. "We came the same trail he'd have used."

Truth to tell Nort did not think much of his own reasoning, but he put it forward as the best under the circ.u.mstances. There was clearly only one thing to do, and that was to acquaint the cowboys with the mystery of Bud's disappearance as soon as possible, and get a search under way.

There was plenty of excitement at Dot and Dash when, in the shadows of the coming night, Nort and d.i.c.k galloped into the yard and shouted the news. They knew, without asking, that Bud had not returned in their absence, so Yellin' Kid did not have to shout:

"He isn't here!"

"Then we've got to find him!" was Billee's conclusion after hearing the brothers' story. "Come on, boys! We've got to search for Bud!"

CHAPTER XVI

BUD'S STRANGE TALE

Darkness, which shrouded Death Valley shortly after the search started, was a severe handicap. Even the most skillful followers of a trail, and there were several such among the cow punchers, could do little in the night. Still they rode out in various directions from the Dot and Dash ranch house--big, stern-faced men, with lariat and gun ready and determined looks in their eyes.

Though some of the cowboys had only been a.s.sociated with Bud Merkel during the short time of their hire, they had come to admire the boy rancher who treated them as his father would have done, with fairness and kindness.

"If any doggoned rustlers have been playing tricks with Bud," voiced Yellin' Kid as he rode off with Nort, d.i.c.k and Billee, "they had better make their wills. I'm after 'em, boy, I'm tellin' you!" and he shouted this information to the silent night.

So they rode forth into the blackness. The Shannon brothers, with Yellin' Kid and Old Billee Dobb, made up one party. Snake Purdee with Sam Tarbell headed another, and the various new cow punchers, including one or two who had recently been sent by Mr. Merkel from Diamond X, took up such trail as there was.

At best it was only a series of faint clews that led toward Bud. It was known in what direction he had started that morning, and the finding of his horse near the original herd, and not far from the Smugglers' Glen, gave color to the theory that he had carried out his intention of getting information about the cattle he wanted to ship away. That was as far as clews went.

What had happened to the young man, how he came off his horse, how the pony's bridle was missing--all these were points to be cleared up by the searchers. And it was not easy in the night.

"We can't do much till morning," said Billee Dobb when he and his companions had circled around the wondering cattle of the original herd, without getting any nearer to the solution of the mystery.

"Something's happened to Bud to put him out of business."

"Out of business!" exclaimed Nort. "Do you mean----"

"I mean only temporary!" Billee made haste to add. "Bud's in some sort of condition where he can't come back to us or send word. I don't really think anything could have happened to him--I mean anything serious."

"I hope not," murmured d.i.c.k, while Nort echoed the wish.

However, as the hours of the night pa.s.sed, and searching as best they could by the glimmer of flashlights, stopping to shout Bud's name now and then, they did not find the missing young rancher.

"It's getting daylight," remarked Yellin' Kid in lower tones than he was wont to use. Perhaps the strange hush which always precedes the dawn, or perhaps the sorrow that pervaded all hearts on account of Bud's absence had an influence on Kid and he was more solemn.

"Yes, soon be time to eat," agreed Old Billee. "We'll have to go back, though. Didn't bring no grub with us."

This was true enough. When the search started no one thought it would last very long. There was no idea that the searchers would be out all night. Yet such was the case.

"Yes, we'll have to go back and then start out again after we eat,"

a.s.sented Nort.

They rode along for a time in silence. Slowly the light in the east grew. More and more rosy it appeared, now with golden streaks.

Morning was about to break forth in all its glory.

"I wonder if he could have had anything to do with it?" spoke Nort suddenly, and apparently asking himself the question.

"Who?" inquired d.i.c.k a bit sharply. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the old Elixer peddler."

"Tosh?"

"Yes."

"How could he have anything to do with Bud staying away all night?"

"That's it. I don't know. I'm just wondering. Tosh is a queer old crank, you know, and he may have met Bud and tried to sell him some more of the stuff that Fah Moo got sick on."

"Well, there'd be no harm in that," remarked Billee. "Old Tosh probably tries to sell everybody he meets some of his dope, on the plea that it'll save them from the fate that overtakes so many in Death Valley. No harm in that. Poor, old crank!"

"No harm in trying to sell--no," a.s.sented Nort. "But if Bud didn't buy any bottles of the stuff--and he wouldn't be likely to--Tosh might have got mad and kicked up a row. There might have been a fight and----"

"Oh, I don't think so!" interrupted d.i.c.k. "That's a little too far fetched."