“What’s the idea?” spluttered Snake, for he had his mouth set for a drink, and did not appear to like being balked.

“Better wait until you find out what’s in the bottle before you sample it,” advised Nort.

“Why, didn’t the old gazaboo tell us what it was Elixer of Life? Some sort of tonic, I reckon, and, believe me, boy, I need something right now!”

“What you need is grub!” broke in Sam. “I’m in the same boat. I’m getting my appetite back,” he added with a look at Nort, whose turn it was to get the dinner.

“Well, maybe this will give me an appetite for baked beans,” suggested Snake.

“More likely to take your appetite away,” went on Nort. “This may be a good, safe stomach medicine, and, again, it may be deadly poison. I want it analyzed by a chemist before I take any of it. And, even then, I don’t believe I’ll try any though it may be safe. I don’t need it.”

“Poison; eh?” mused Snake. “Do you think ”

“No, I don’t think this harmless, crack-brained old man had anything to do with the deaths that are said to have taken place at Dot and Dash,” interrupted Nort, guessing at Snake’s implied question. “But a crank is a dangerous man to have mix your drinks. He may have brewed this from honest herbs, or it may be an extract of toadstools. I’m going slow at it.”

“Well, I guess I’d better, too,” agreed Snake, ruefully, “I’m glad you didn’t let me sample it, Nort.”

“It’s better to be sure than sorry,” said the boy. “Is there a chemist in Los Pompan,” and he nodded in the direction of the town that lay nearest to the ranch.

“I don’t believe there is,” Sam answered. “But there’s a doctor and maybe he can tell whether this stuff is safe or not,” and he gazed at one of the Elixer bottles he had picked up off the bench where Nort had set them.

“Safe or dangerous, we don’t need it,” went on the boy. “I only bought it to lead the old man on. But we didn’t get much out of him.”

“No,” assented Snake. “His answers were crazy enough. Guess we’ll have to wait until Billee and the others come back to find out what’s the real secret of Death Valley.”

“Maybe we won’t then,” suggested Sam, in a low voice.

“Do you mean they won’t come back?” asked Nort with a sudden increase in his heart beats.

“Oh, some of ’em are bound to come back,” was the not very cheering reply. “The deaths ain’t wholesale like that. And maybe nothing won’t happen to any of ’em,” which was sufficiently clear and hopeful if not very grammatical. “But, even if they all come back, which is more than likely,” went on the most recent foreman of Dot and Dash, “that ain’t saying they’ll find out the secret.”

“No, I suppose not,” agreed Nort. “Well, we’ll hope for the best.”

They resumed their labors of getting the group of ranch buildings in shipshape against the return of Bud and the others. Sam had agreed to stay for a while to aid in the check-over and as soon as possible, as Nort knew, Mr. Merkel intended to add to his cattle already on the ranch, and hire more men to look after them.

“I wish we’d found out that old geezer’s name and more about him before we let him vamoose,” said Snake as he worked away with Nort.

“Yes,” agreed the boy, “but so much was happening, and he was so queer, that I forgot about it.”

“Guess we all did. Well, we can pick him up again when we need him if we ever do,” chuckled Snake. “I mean if the doctor says this here Elixer is any good.”

“If there isn’t any harm in it that’s the most I expect,” came from Nort. “As for finding the old man ”

“He’s an eel, I tell you!” broke in Sam. “I’ve seen him more then once, riding along, that is some time ago, ’fore I was knocked out. But when I tried to come up to him he’d vanish. And to look at it you wouldn’t think that cayuse of his was any quicker’n a snail!”

“He must have some hiding place,” suggested Snake.

“Maybe,” admitted Sam. “But I don’t like that hombre and you hear what I’m tellin’ you!”

Dinner was served, and eaten with hearty appetites in spite of what had happened and what might take place later. Then more work was done about the place, and as the afternoon waned Nort began to get rather anxious for the return of those who had gone on the round-up.

It was not a round-up in the real sense of the word but merely a riding around of the place to size it up to ascertain the number of head of cattle on the ranch, to find out the location of water holes, the best pasture, look to the condition of the fences and such matters as that.

“And I wish, while they were at it, they’d get a Chink cook,” said Nort to whom had fallen the task of washing the dishes. “Any chance of getting a yellow man in Los Pompon?” he asked Sam.

“Oh, sure, I should think so. If you can get him to stay.”

“Why wouldn’t he stay?” Nort wanted to know. And then he remembered and added: “You mean on account of possible deaths?”

“Sure! That’s it. Them Chinks is powerful leery about anything like that. But maybe we can get one fresh smuggled over from Mexico and he won’t be so particular.”

“That’s right,” agreed Nort as he recalled how desperately eager the Celestials were to be smuggled into the United States.

It was getting dusk, and the three were a bit anxious as they prepared the evening meal, for, as yet, the prospectors, as they might be called, had not returned. Nort was going to suggest that perhaps it might be well to ride out and see if his brother and the others were in sight when the clatter of horses’ feet was heard and into the ranch yard came riding the cavalcade.

A quick count showed not one missing, and it was with a relieved heart that Nort greeted Bud and Dick.

“Anything happen?” asked Snake.

“Nary a thing!” boomed out Yellin’ Kid. “It was as peaceful as a Sunday school picnic. But this is sure some dandy ranch.”

“That’s right!” chimed in Bud. “We didn’t have time to go all over it,” he went on to those who had been left behind. “But we saw enough to convince us that dad made no mistake in buying it that is if we can clear out the jinx.”

“But you didn’t see any signs of him or it?” asked Nort.

“Who?” inquired Dick.

“I mean the jinx.”

“No, not a thing. Didn’t even see a dead calf, and, as we know, they’re common enough on a ranch. Everything was lovely.”

“It sure is a good buy,” went on Bud. “Of course it’s a bit run down, and the fences here and there need mending. But there’s plenty of water and what cattle there are seem to be in good shape. When we buy a few more herds, and hire some more men to help us, we’ll be sitting pretty.”

“Then we didn’t need to do so much worrying?” questioned Nort.

“Seems not.”

“And that warning was all tommyrot!” added Dick with a laugh. “Hello, what’s this?” and he picked up one of the bottles of Elixer, for by this time the whole party was in the ranch house, and saw the three flasks on the table.

“Stuff your brother bought to save lives!” chuckled Snake, and the story was told.

“An old man, half crazy; eh?” mused Billee as he listened. “Who is he and what about him?”

“Doesn’t seem to amount to much, really,” stated Nort. “But I thought we’d better have this stuff analyzed.”

“Sure!” assented Billee, and, taking the three bottles he locked them in a wall cupboard and put the key in his pocket.

There was much to talk about at Dot and Dash that night. Nort related the coming and going of the vender of Life’s Elixer, and on their part Bud and Dick told of the scenes about the ranch, and added to their first statements that it was an ideal place to raise cattle.

“And there weren’t any signs of sudden deaths?” asked Nort.

“Nary a one. It’s a shame to call this Death Valley,” declared Bud.

The week that followed was a busy one and there was plenty of work for all hands, including Sam Tarbell who, when he found that there was no sudden passing away of any of his new friends or the remaining cattle, decided to stay and work for Dot and Dash.

A careful examination was made in the vicinity where Sam had “keeled over,” as he expressed it, and where his horse had died. Nothing suspicious was discovered, however, and there was no way to account for the strange happening. The animal appeared to have died a natural death.

“Of course,” Sam said, “my pony might of dropped dead from heart disease, and when he fell I was throwed off and hit my head on a rock. That’s what might have knocked me out.”

“It’s very possible,” agreed Bud.

Arrangements were under way for the purchase of two herds from ranchmen in the adjoining county, and several more cowboys had been engaged when, like a clap of thunder out of a clear sky, it happened.

Bud, Nort and Dick were riding over to the south end of the ranch one day, to inspect the present herd, with a view to shifting it, when Nort pointed to what looked like several dark bowlders on a distant, grassy slope.

“What are those?” he asked. “Big stones?”

“Stones?” queried Bud and, a moment later, he exclaimed, “Those are dead cattle! Boys, I guess the jinx has come back!”