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Title: The Bobbsey Twins on a Ranch (Bobbsey Twins #28)

Date of first publication: 1935

Author: Laura Lee Hope (Stratemeyer pseudonym)

Date first posted: April 10, 2026

Date last updated: April 10, 2026

Faded Page eBook #20260423

This eBook was produced by: Al Haines, Pat McCoy & the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net

In an outdoor, desert-type setting, a group of children are gathered around two men who are holding down a sheep and shearing it. The men and the children are wearing western style clothing. In the background is another man who is herding a small group of sheep.

The Bobbsey Twins on a Ranch

“Sheep look funny with their overcoats off,” laughed Flossie.

The Bobbsey Twins

on a Ranch

LAURA LEE HOPE

NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS

Grosset & Dunlap, Inc.

The Bobbsey Twins on a Ranch

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CHAPTER I
SPOILING THE SHOW

Nan Bobbsey moved the big easy chair a little closer to the window. Then she leaned forward, and looked down into the back yard on the green grass where a crowd of children was gathered.

“Oh, there’s Flossie!” murmured Nan. “Doesn’t she look cute in that fairy costume!”

“She sho’ do, Miss Nan!” said Dinah, the fat Negro cook, who had come upstairs to make sure that the girl was comfortable. “But doan’t yo’ all go gittin’ too close up by dat window! Yo’ all might catch cold an’ dat ain’t so good when you got de measles.”

“I haven’t the measles now, Dinah,” Nan answered. “I’m all over them, but I have to stay in my room two more days, the doctor said. I’m in quarantine.”

“Does it hurt much, Miss Nan?” asked Dinah, as she wrapped a blanket closer around Nan’s legs, even though it was summer and the day was warm.

“That is a hard word to say, Dinah. I stumbled over it myself at first. It’s quarantine, and it means when you have some disease that’s catching you have to stay away a certain number of days from those who haven’t had it. I’m still in quarantine, Dr. Massy said.”

“I don’t think much ob dat doctor man,” went on the dear old black cook. “If he was a good doctor seems t’ me he could do suffin’ t’ git you out ob dat—er—dat whateber it is—quicker’n dis!”

“Doctors can’t do anything about it, Dinah,” said Nan. “I had the measles and I’m well over them now. Yet, I have to stay by myself so the germs won’t spread to Flossie and Freddie. Bert’s had the measles; that’s why he is allowed to come up to see me. But I’m all right here at the window.”

“Oh yes, Dinah, thank you. Sitting up here at the window, even if it is closed so I won’t catch cold, is like having a reserved seat in a theatre balcony. I can see perfectly.”

“If yo’ all cain’t,” said Dinah, “jes’ say so, an’ I’ll go down an’ make Flossie an’ Freddie an’ Bert an’ Grace Lavine an’ all de others ob ’em stand where yo’ all kin see.”

“I should think so,” spoke Nan. “They’re all dressed up, almost the way they were at the fancy dance party we had at the hotel in Storm Haven. There’s Flossie as a fairy—she always wants to play a fairy.”

“An’ dere’s dat Freddie dressed lak a real fireman!” chuckled Dinah. “Nebber did see sich a boy fo’ wantin’ t’ be a fireman. It’s a wonder he ain’t gotten hisself a real hose wif water in it.”

“Don’t suggest that, Dinah!” laughed Nan, “or Freddie may hear you and do just that.”

“You can’t tell what Freddie will do,” declared Nan. “And there’s Bert!” she added. “He has the same sailor costume he wore at Storm Haven, only now he’s carrying a long rope. I suppose sailors do carry ropes.”

“Mos’ lakly dey does,” said Dinah. “Kin I git yo’ all anythin’, Miss Nan? Some mo’ hot chocolate, maybe so?”

“Oh, Dinah! I’m sick of hot chocolate! Seems to me that was all I had to drink all the time I was in bed with the measles. I’d rather have a glass of cold water.”

“I’ll git it fo’ yo’ all,” offered the kind cook, as she hurried to the kitchen.

Nan looked from the window down onto the gay little scene. Her brothers and sister, which amounted to one and a half pairs of the Bobbsey twins, had decided to give a little open-air show to entertain their sister during the remainder of her quarantine period. Other children of the neighborhood would help. It was to be a queer performance, as Nan had learned from hearing her mother and Bert talk about it.

One part of the show was an idea of Flossie and Freddie. They had brought home with them the dance costumes they had worn earlier in the summer when they stayed at a seashore hotel. The other part was arranged by Bert and some of his boy chums. Bert had his sailor costume. His friend Charlie Mason had a cowboy outfit which he said he would wear and Tom Clayton had a suit that made him look like a pirate.

“We can all three be in the same act,” Bert had said. “You be the pirate who tries to capture my ship, Tom, and Charlie can be captain of another ship that comes to the rescue when I send out an S O S call. It will be swell!”

“But say—listen here!” cried Charlie. “Whoever heard of a cowboy being captain of a ship?”

“All the better,” said Bert. “It will amuse Nan and make her forget that she can’t be out of her room for another two days. Now let’s practice. I want to learn to throw the lasso better.”

“Hey!” cried Charlie, “where did you get a lasso? I’m the cowboy with the lasso.”

“That’s right,” Bert agreed with a laugh. “I forgot. I throw a rope to you, Charlie, when your ship comes to rescue me after I send out the S O S call.”

“No, it’s just a ship rope,” Bert answered. “I forget the name of it. Anyhow, I throw it. Later, when Tom captures my ship, you lasso the pirate, Charlie.”

“Well, you want to be careful, Charlie, that you don’t lasso me too hard or I’ll pirate you!” laughed Tom.

The three boys had a great deal of fun arranging their part of the little show. Flossie and Freddie also had a good time making up the different things they were to do.

“Heah’s yo’ drink,” Dinah said, coming back into Nan’s room. “Has dey done started yit?”

“No, but I think they’re almost ready. I see Mother back of the lilac bushes sort of directing things. She is stage manager.”

“She didn’t, Dinah!” laughed the measles-girl. “But they call the place in a theatre where the performers appear a stage, and somebody has to manage the actors and sometimes tell them what to do so they won’t get mixed up. Our grass plot is the stage and the bushes are the scenery. Oh, here comes Grace Lavine in my costume!” exclaimed Nan. “How sweet she looks!”

“How come Miss Grace got yo’ all dress on?” asked Dinah suspiciously as Nan drank the water.

“Oh, I let her take it. It’s a Bo-Peep dress I wore at the hotel dance in Storm Haven,” Nan answered. “I couldn’t wear it now on account of having the measles so I said Grace might borrow it.”

Grace was one of Nan’s special chums. The two had been friends a long time. Seeing her playmate in her former Bo-Peep costume, Nan watched her more than she did the others.

“I just love that dress!” she said to herself. “It’s the nicest costume I ever had. I hope nothing happens to it.”

Suddenly all the little actors and actresses disappeared from the grass plot in front of Nan’s window, for that was to be the stage. Mrs. Bobbsey had called the little company of costumed players behind the bushes to make sure all were ready for the show, which was about to start. There was a short wait, and then there came a burst of music.

“Oh, it’s a hand organ!” cried Nan in delight, clapping her hands. “I’m sure daddy must have seen an Italian organ grinder on the street and hired him for the show! I wonder if there’s a monkey.”

“Yes, Miss Nan, dey sho’ is!” laughed Dinah, pointing. “Look, ober dere by de apple tree. An’ dere’s de organ man, too!”

Nan saw an Italian busily grinding away at the handle of his organ, on top of which was perched a cute little monkey dressed in a jacket and red cap.

“I wonder if he’s going to be in the show?” Nan said. “They didn’t tell me anything about it.”

“Hush!” cautioned Nan softly. “They’re going to begin. Flossie and Freddie are to sing. I can’t hear very well with the window closed, but Mother told me not to open it. So keep quiet, Dinah, please.”

As the music from the organ stopped, other notes floated upon the air. Nan knew they came from a phonograph that had been moved out from the house to the back lawn. Flossie and Freddie then sang a simple little song accompanied by the record music.

When they had finished, the two small Bobbsey twins looked up at Nan seated at her window, waved their hands, and blew kisses to her. Their older sister applauded them and clapped very hard, but it is doubtful if Flossie and Freddie could hear her.

Then the show went on. It was all very simple and somewhat mixed up, for there was no regular play or plot. The little actors and actresses did about as they pleased, taking parts they had previously had in school entertainments. It did Nan a lot of good, however, and she and the others laughed heartily when Mrs. Bobbsey sent the Italian organ grinder out to the centre of the grass plot stage and had him play a lively, merry tune, while the monkey did some tricks.

Then Freddie, dressed as a fireman, came out and turned somersaults. Just why he did, no one seemed to know, but it was enjoyed by several of the Bobbsey neighbors who had gathered in the back yard to watch “Nan’s show,” as it was called.

Flossie next did a dance. This was quite appropriate for she was supposed to be a fairy and fairies always dance, Nan told Dinah.

The best part of the show, according to Bert, Tom and Charlie, was when they played pirate ship and cowboy in a somewhat mixed performance. But they did well, and Charlie’s lasso circled the pirate’s neck perfectly. There was so much applause after this act was finished that Bert and his chums wanted to do it over again, but Mrs. Bobbsey, the stage manager, said:

Grace, wearing Nan’s Bo-Peep costume, now came out on the green grass stage. She had a long crook such as all shepherdesses are supposed to carry. As she walked along, there followed her a little white poodle dog which belonged to Harry Martin, who lived up the street. The pet was supposed to be one of Bo-Peep’s sheep, and portrayed the part very well. Everyone smiled when the dog-sheep appeared, looking rather puzzled as to what it was all about. Nan laughed merrily, but never once took her eyes off Grace.

“She looks lovely in my Bo-Peep dress,” said Nan. “I hope she takes good care of it.”

Grace was to do a little dance as well as pretend she had lost her sheep. The hand organ made music for her as she began, and she really performed very well. Then, all of a sudden, when Grace was in the middle of her dance, Freddie came from behind a bush dragging the garden hose. Now, whether Freddie Bobbsey thought it was time for him to do something, or if he became excited by the hand-organ music, no one ever found out. At any rate, he aimed the hose straight at Grace, opened the nozzle, and cried:

“Oh! Oh, Freddie Bobbsey!” cried Nan, knocking on the window at her little brother. But Freddie did not hear her. Neither did he hear his mother calling to him to stop.

“I’m a fireman! I’m a fireman!” he shouted again. He kept playing the hose on poor Grace, who held her hands over her face. Then Freddie directed the stream on her legs and body. The Bo-Peep costume was soaked.

“Oh! Oh!” sobbed Grace. She turned and ran to get away from the water. It was then that the little boy seemed to realize what he had done, for he dropped the hose and shouted:

“Oh, I didn’t mean to do that! Honest, I didn’t mean to! I was pretending the apple tree was on fire and I was squirting at that!”

Hardly knowing what she was doing, the little girl, with water dripping from her lovely costume that Nan had let her use, ran around the side of the house toward the street. Just as she reached the gate she tripped over a rope Bert had left there. It was part of the one he had used in the pirate ship act.

Then, as the other players followed her, they saw a tall, very handsome young man who was riding past on a black horse, leap off his steed and run to pick up Grace.

“Are you hurt? Are you hurt?” he exclaimed, as he held her in his arms, seeming not to mind in the least the wet dress. “What’s the matter? What happened?”

CHAPTER II
THE GALLANT RESCUER

Mrs. Bobbsey, having seen from behind the lilac bushes what had happened, did not stop to scold Freddie for dousing Grace and the pretty Bo-Peep costume. That could come later. Instead, she hurried around the corner of the house to find out what had happened to the little girl.

Flossie, with Bert and his chums and Freddie, followed. The “little fireman” had dropped the hose after he realized what he had done. It continued to squirt water, but now only wet the grass and bushes. Bert stopped to turn off the stream, then said to his small brother:

“I didn’t touch the hose,” said Fairy Flossie. She was so often mixed up with her brother in some mischief such as this that she thought she might now be blamed.

By this time he and the other children had reached the front of the house. There they saw Mrs. Bobbsey talking to the tall, handsome stranger. After having leaped from his coal-black horse to rescue Grace, he had thrown the reins over the head of the animal so that they dragged on the ground. Seeing this, Bert said to his chums:

“Because that’s the way cowboys always do to their horses when they want them to stand still. They don’t tie ’em to a hitching post. There aren’t any of those things out on ranches.”

“And there aren’t any posts around here,” said Charlie. “So it’ll be a good thing if this is a Western horse.”

“I don’t know,” Bert answered. “I never saw him before. Golly! Look! Grace has made him all wet!”

By this time the handsome rescuing stranger had set Grace down, after finding that she was not hurt by her tumble over Bert’s sailor rope. But the girl was quite upset and was crying. She did not mind letting her tears fall on Nan’s Bo-Peep costume. That was too wet, already, for a few tears to make any difference.

“Was there an accident?” asked the stranger, bowing to Mrs. Bobbsey. “I saw this little girl come running around the house, all wet, and she stumbled and fell. I heard someone shouting fire.”

“Was there a fire, or something?” asked the horseman, looking to make sure that his black steed was not straying. But the animal was contentedly cropping the grass.

“There was no fire,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, “though my naughty little Freddie was pretending to be a fireman and accidentally turned the hose and water on Grace. I’m so sorry! There, my dear,” she comforted the weeping Bo-Peep, “you aren’t hurt.”

“No, I’m not hurt!” said Grace. “But Nan’s pretty dress—it’s all spoiled—and my dance was spoiled.”

“The dress can be cleaned and dried,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “As for your dance, it was nearly finished. The show was about over when Freddie did his unexpected act,” she added with a little laugh. “But may I ask whom to thank for picking Grace up?” she questioned the man.

“Oh, it doesn’t much matter,” he began. “I am an actor. Quiet, Nero!” he suddenly ordered his horse. The animal, startled by the white poodle that had pretended to be a sheep, now reared on his hind legs.

The children ran back, fearing the horse might trample on them. But his master said:

“Don’t be afraid. Nero is a trick horse! I’ll tell you about him as soon as I can quiet him.”

While he is soothing Nero, may I take just a moment to tell my new readers something about the Bobbsey twins? Those of you who have read the other books in the series may skip this part.

Acquaintance with the four children begins in the first book, called “The Bobbsey Twins.” There were two pair. Bert and Nan were the older ones, and Flossie and Freddie the younger. They lived with their father and mother in the small city of Lakeport, where Mr. Bobbsey was in the lumber business. Dinah was the Bobbsey cook. Her husband, Sam Johnson, worked in the garden and sometimes drove the automobile.

The Bobbsey twins were always having fun and adventure, it seemed. They went to the country, to the seashore, on an airplane trip, and once treasure-hunting. Wherever they went, they had very good times.

In the book just before the one you are now reading, called “The Bobbsey Twins Solve a Mystery,” it is related how Bert, Nan, Flossie, and Freddie went to Storm Haven, and while there discovered a very strange secret of the sea.

They had returned from the summer resort to Lakeport toward the end of the summer, just before Nan got the measles. She had been quite ill with them but was now recovering, and at this moment was wishing she was out of quarantine, so that she might run downstairs to see what had happened after Freddie had doused poor Grace.

Nan did run to the front window of the house, however. There she could make out the tall, handsome stranger and his black horse. She could also see the dripping Grace, Mrs. Bobbsey and the others gathered around the prancing steed.

“Oh, I wonder what it’s all about?” murmured Nan. “How I wish I could go down there, yet I dare not. Why, that man and his horse are like something in a book or a moving picture! I wish I knew who he is!”

Nan was soon to find out who he was. Yet she did not once dream of the unusual events that were to happen later to herself, the stranger and his horse, as well as to Bert, Flossie and Freddie.

By this time the man had managed to quiet Nero. Then, as Mrs. Bobbsey and the children gathered about him and his steed, with Nan looking on from her window, the stranger began to talk.

“That’s all right!” laughed Mr. Robin. “Very often my horse is mistaken for a circus performing animal. What he does best, though, is to pose for me.”

“Well, I try to,” was the answer. “I specialize in making pictures of horses and sheep. Nero has been in more than one.”

“Not with me,” answered Mr. Robin with a smile. “I have a sheep ranch in the Southwest.”

“Where’s Southwest?” asked Freddie, who seemed to have forgotten that he might be punished for his playing with the hose.

“Around the southern end of California,” was the answer. “Down in Arizona near the Mexican border. My sheep ranch is in Arizona.”

“What’s the matter?” asked Nero’s master. The black horse was very quiet now.

“I was thinking,” said Flossie, “that Freddie and I can’t walk there. We were talking about going on a ranch.”

“But it wasn’t a sheep ranch,” said Freddie. “I’d like to see a sheep ranch.”

“Well,” invited Mr. Robin with a smile, “you are quite welcome to come and visit my Arizona sheep ranch.”

“My goodness! You just came back from the seashore!” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “Besides, it will soon be cold weather, and you must go to school.”

“Cold weather doesn’t bother us much,” said Mr. Robin. “In fact, that’s one reason why I try to raise sheep in Arizona. Nero also likes a warm climate.”

“Oh, I have men on my place to look after them. I am up here now acting in a play.”

“Well, I can’t say that it is like yours for I didn’t see your play,” laughed Mr. Robin. “But I am a sort of actor, associated with some real players. We are giving the ‘Quest of the Cup’ at Midvale,” he told Mrs. Bobbsey.

“Oh, that ancient religious drama!” exclaimed the mother of the Bobbsey twins. “I have heard so much about it. It must be wonderful to act outdoors in that lovely vale with the beautiful scenery around you. I have wanted very much to see your play, but we have scarcely got settled after our summer vacation, and——”

As he spoke, Grace seemed about to collapse. She swayed, and would have fallen, had not Mr. Robin caught her in his arms.

“Carry her into the house,” ordered Mrs. Bobbsey quickly. “Poor Grace! I think she must have swallowed a lot of water when Freddie turned the hose on her. It is no wonder she collapsed, doing her dance and having it spoiled, and then getting soaked and worrying about the Bo-Peep dress.”

Mr. Robin picked up Grace and followed Mrs. Bobbsey. Flossie, Freddie and Bert went along, but none of the neighborhood children entered the house.

“Hush, Bert!” ordered his mother. “Don’t scare Freddie.” The little boy’s eyes were filling with tears.

CHAPTER III
NERO ENTERTAINS

Grace Lavine, still very wet, and damp, and limp, was carried into the house. Mr. Robin placed her on a couch in the living room.

“Quick, Dinah!” called Mrs. Bobbsey. “Help me to get her wet things off, and then take some towels and dry the poor child. Flossie, where are her clothes?”

“Yes, let Freddie go with Flossie,” suggested Mrs. Bobbsey. “Bert, you stay around within call, for I may need you. Now, all of you please go away while Dinah and I put some dry clothes on Grace.”

“Come along, young man,” said the sheep rancher and actor to Bert. “This is one time we are not wanted.”

“No, I’ll wait,” promised Mr. Robin. “I want to find out how my little shepherdess makes out.”

“Oh, I’ll be all right,” said Grace faintly, as Bert and the actor left the room. “It was silly of me to get so weak all of a sudden. That’s how I felt—weak,” she said to Mrs. Bobbsey. “Just like the time I jumped rope too much and fainted.”

“Yes, it must have been,” said the twins’ mother. “But you’ll be all right. Dinah, heat some milk for Grace,” she added. “That will strengthen her.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry about Nan’s lovely dress. I’ll take it home with me and maybe my mother can fix it.”

Flossie and Freddie came in with the garments which Grace had taken off in the garage dressing room in order to don the play costume. Mrs. Bobbsey and Dinah soon had the girl warm and dry. She was about Nan’s age. After they had helped her to put on her dry clothes, and she had had a glass of hot milk, Grace felt much better.

“Oh, you poor child!” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey. “You must have been very curious indeed. I’ll be up in a moment and tell you all about it. Dinah, you stay with Grace. Yes, Flossie may come in, but not Freddie.”

“Not exactly,” his mother answered, her voice rather solemn. “But you were very mischievous, Freddie. What possessed you to turn the hose on Grace?”

“I didn’t mean to—honest, I didn’t. I thought she had finished dancing, and I wanted to show how I could be a fireman. I was squirting at a tree that I made believe was on fire, and the hose sort of twisted in my hands and then it got Grace all wet. I’m sorry.”

“It got me wet, all right,” said the little girl, talking to Freddie through the closed door. “But I know you didn’t mean it. I’ll forgive you.”

Then Flossie came in to see Grace, Dinah remaining near her. Freddie, seeing Bert and Mr. Robin out in front standing near Nero, hurried to join them.

“You were a brave little girl, Nan, not to come down out of quarantine to find out what all the excitement was about,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, smiling at the measles patient. “And you must have been very curious to learn what it was all about.”

“Mother,” said Nan fervently, “I was just crazy to hear what it was. I could hardly wait, but I knew I had to. Now, will you tell me?”

Mrs. Bobbsey then related everything, beginning with the wetting of Grace by Freddie.

“I saw that,” Nan said. “And I saw that handsome man come on a horse and pick up Grace. Who is he?”

Nan was much surprised to learn who Mr. Robin was. It interested her to hear what they told about him.

“What’s he doing now?” she asked, for she had gone back into her own room and could not see the little crowd of children, including Bert and Freddie, who were out in front with the actor and his horse.

“I don’t know why Mr. Robin came to Lakeport. But I do know he has to be back in Midvale tonight to appear in another performance of the ancient religious play.”

“I wish I could see it!” exclaimed Nan, who had read about it in the papers.

“I don’t believe they would let a girl who isn’t yet out of measles quarantine, attend,” said her mother. “Now I must go down to see how Grace is. She will be all right, I’m sure. But she worries so about having spoiled your dress, Nan.”

“Tell her not to, Mother. Though I think a great deal of that costume, it really isn’t worth worrying about.”

“I’ll go down,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, “but I’ll be up again after Mr. Robin goes, and tell you anything else I may hear.”

Meanwhile, Bert and the others were becoming on very friendly terms with Mr. Robin and his trick horse Nero. Freddie went into the kitchen and got some lumps of sugar for the black animal.

“Just a minute before I give this sugar to Nero,” said Mr. Robin, as Freddie handed him the sweet lumps. “I think he should earn this treat.”

“All right. Watch!” Then to his horse the actor said, “Nero, do you want some sugar?”

“How many lumps do you want, Nero?” was the next question. “Tap on the ground with your right front foot.”

At once the animal began to tap. He tapped so many times and so fast that Mr. Robin said:

“Oh, I can’t give you a hundred lumps, Nero. That would be too many. Besides, Freddie brought out—let me see——” he began, and looked at the sugar in his hand. “Freddie brought out just four lumps. Now, Nero, if you want four lumps, tap with your left foot four times.”

At once the clever horse tapped four times, much to the surprise of Bert and the others.

“Oh, by long hours of training and kindness, and by making him do it over and over. I don’t suppose Nero really counts. But I use a certain voice when I say one, another for two, yet another for three, and so on up to nine. Nine is as high as Nero can count.”

“Oh, yes, many others. I haven’t time to have him perform all of them. But here is one. Stand back, all of you. I am going to make him walk on his hind legs.”

Bert, Freddie and the others withdrew to a safe distance. Then Mr. Robin called to his horse:

Mr. Robin, who carried a riding crop, took care that Nero should not come too near the group of children, so there would be no danger. For half a minute the fine horse walked about in this position, which is not an easy one. Then his master called:

“Say, Mr. Robin,” he said, “could you take your horse into our back yard and make him do tricks for Nan?”

“She’s my sister, but she has the measles and has to stay in her room. That’s why we gave the show—so she could see it. But I’m sure she’d like to see your trick horse. Could you make him do tricks in the yard for Nan?”

“That won’t matter,” declared Bert. “It’s only rough grass, anyhow. He can’t hurt it.”

You can imagine how surprised the girl was when her brother told her of the new entertainment he had arranged for her benefit.

“All right. But go to the window now and watch!” her brother called as he ran downstairs.

Out in the yard, where a short time before the children had presented their play for Nan, the trick horse gave his performance. Not only did he count lumps of sugar—seven this time—but he pranced upon his hind legs, did a waltz step with Mr. Robin on his back, and reached around and loosened a handkerchief which the actor had tied around his pet’s left hind leg. Then, to climax it all, Nero played “dead.”

“Oh, that was wonderful!” exclaimed Nan to Dinah, who had come up to see if the patient needed anything. “I wish I could go down and pet Nero.”

“I’m afraid not,” sighed Nan. “He has to go back to the open-air theatre where he is playing. But I should love to see him once more, and Nero too.”

After getting into her dry garments, Grace Lavine joined the other children to watch the trick horse in the back yard. They all felt sorry when the little show was over, for Mr. Robin had said he must ride back to Midvale.

“Just a moment! Just a moment, please!” called Mrs. Bobbsey, hurrying from the house as the actor-artist was about to leap into the saddle. “Wait a moment!”

CHAPTER IV
NAN MAKES A HIT

“Please don’t tell me Little Bo-Peep is worse!” Grace had gone home by this time.

“Oh, she is all right,” replied Mrs. Bobbsey. “As it is rather late in the day, and you have a long ride back to Midvale—I understand the evening performance doesn’t begin until nearly nine o’clock—won’t you stay and have dinner with us? It will be an early one, and I know Mr. Bobbsey would be delighted to meet you. Do stay!”

“Please!” begged Flossie. “I’ll show you my doll if you will. She can say ‘Mamma’ and cry.”

“And I’ll show you my toy fire engine that squirts real water!” offered Freddie.

“Well, then,” said Freddie, “I’ll show you my fire engine without any water in it, but it doesn’t work so well that way.”

“You are very kind. I’m afraid I’ll be in the way. Besides, there is my horse. Nero is rather clever, but I haven’t trained him to eat at the table with the family!”

“That would be a trick,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, laughing. “As it happens,” she said, “we have a stall left in the old stable that has been made into a sort of garden house. Often some of Mr. Bobbsey’s men drive up here to do work on our place so we keep the stall for their horses. We also have hay, straw and oats in there.”

“Fine. Then Nero will feel right at home,” laughed Mr. Robin. “Under those conditions, I don’t see how I can refuse.”

“As much as you want to hear in the time I have. I must get back to the play early in the evening. My fellow actors may worry if I don’t appear with Nero. He at least has a very prominent part in the pageant. But I think I shall have time. Thank you very much, Mrs. Bobbsey.”

“I’m sorry Nan can’t be down to meet you and hear your account of the sheep ranch. She would be interested also in your painting. She has just begun the study of art.”

“I’m afraid I’m not very much of an artist, Mrs. Bobbsey. I only paint horses and sheep with an occasional dog. But I am sorry Nan can’t come down. Perhaps I may meet her another time. We are going to play in Midvale a while yet.”

“I do hope you can come over again,” Mrs. Bobbsey said, as Freddie and Flossie appeared with the toy fire engine and the doll. “I may take Nan over to see the play.”

“Yes, do bring her. And be sure to send word back stage that you are out front. I shall come to see you between the acts.”

“Say!” exclaimed Bert to himself, for his chums and the other children had gone home now, “this is going to be good!”

He hurried upstairs to tell Nan the news and to ask how she liked the trick horse.

“Oh, he was wonderful!” Nan said. “I do wish I could come down to dinner, but I know I can’t. Only tell Mr. Robin that I thank him very much.”

“I will. And when he goes, I’ll hurry back and tell you everything he says.”

Such an exciting meal as that dinner was in the Bobbsey home! The small twins couldn’t remember anything like it before. Bert was less excited than the little ones, but even he was very much interested in hearing Mr. Robin tell about his sheep ranch, the herders who looked after the animals, and some Mexican and Indian helpers who made their home on the big place.

“Perhaps you may some day,” suggested the owner. “I am going back soon with the drama players. We are to give several additional performances here and some out in California.”

“How are you traveling to California?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey, as she directed Dinah in the serving of the meal. The colored cook was almost as much interested in the actor as were the children, and she often stopped to listen to what he was saying, and forgot to serve the meal.

“We shall travel by steamer through the Panama Canal,” was the answer, “then up the West coast to San Francisco. After we play around there a short while the company will disband, and I shall go to my ranch. I have been away from it some time and must look after matters. So if you ever get out in my part of the country, do come to visit me,” said Mr. Robin, including all the Bobbseys in his invitation.

“I don’t see much prospect of our getting out there,” Mrs. Bobbsey replied. “I should like to visit the Southwest very much, though.”

Freddie and Flossie looked, listened, and wondered, asking occasional questions. The younger children were especially interested in Nero, and it was all Mrs. Bobbsey could do to prevent Freddie from leaving the dinner table to go out to the old barn to see that the trick horse was safe.

At last the meal was over. Then, apologizing for having to hurry away because he must appear at the show in Midvale, Mr. Robin went out to get his animal. First, however, he shouted good-bye to Nan, who was in her room near the head of the stairs. Bert had kindly run up to tell his sister the visitor was leaving.

“Perhaps you can drive over to Midvale this evening and see the play,” suggested Mr. Robin to Mrs. Bobbsey as he was leaving. “Here are two tickets. Please ask Mr. Bobbsey to come, also. I am sorry I did not have the pleasure of meeting him tonight.” Mr. Bobbsey had not come home to dinner, for he had been detained at the office.

“I shall ask him to take me,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “I am much interested in these outdoor plays, and have heard a great deal about the ancient religious drama you and your company are giving.”

“I shall look for you, then,” said the actor. “And I shall enjoy meeting Nan. Good evening!”

He saddled Nero, who had enjoyed his dinner of hay and oats, and then rode away in the evening twilight. As master and steed passed out on the drive, Mr. Robin made Nero bow his good-bye to Mrs. Bobbsey and the children.

“Dat sho’ am a wonderful horse!” murmured Dinah as she saw this trick. “He sho’ am!”

Mr. Bobbsey came home a little later. He was almost overwhelmed with the excited accounts Flossie and Freddie gave him of all that had happened from the start of the show for Nan’s benefit to the departure of Mr. Robin.

“Well, such a thing might happen,” was Mr. Bobbsey’s rather unexpected answer.

“I’m not, my dear,” Mr. Bobbsey answered. “The reason I didn’t get home to dinner was because some new business came up very suddenly. I can’t tell you about it now, but it is not impossible that I may have to go to California on a trip, and if I do——”

“California!” exclaimed Bert. “Why, that’s where Mr. Robin and his players are going! Through the Panama Canal! Oh, if we could go——”

“Don’t think any more about it now,” said his father. “It might not happen. But tell me all about Nero.” This was a subject on which Flossie and Freddie could talk a long time, and they did.

Mr. Bobbsey was much in favor of going with Mrs. Bobbsey to Midvale to see the religious play. A little later they started out in the auto, leaving the children in care of Dinah.

The colored woman had a hard task getting the Bobbsey twins to go to bed that night after all the excitement. Finally they did, however, and slept so soundly that they did not hear their father and mother return from Midvale.

The next day Mrs. Bobbsey told the children all about the show. There was much of it they could not understand, but they enjoyed hearing about the beautiful natural setting for it, with the real stars shining in the sky overhead. There were also many beautiful colored electric lights strung about the grounds.

“He gave a most wonderful performance,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “In one scene he walked across the stage with a figure on his back which was intended to represent an angel. It was not a real live person, but only a dummy. Yet Nero was so well trained he needed no coaching. He is a very fine horse.”

“Not in this play,” said her mother. “It was a serious religious play and tricks would have been out of place.”

The day following this Nan’s quarantine was up and she was allowed to leave her room and mingle with the others.

“And am I glad!” she exclaimed when she was permitted to go out on the porch and into the yard. “It seems as if I’ve been shut up for a year! Oh, how good it is to be well again!”

Bert, Flossie and Freddie were delighted beyond words to have their sister back with them once more.

That afternoon Grace Lavine came in to see Nan, bringing her the Bo-Peep costume she had worn at the play.

“I’m so sorry it got wet, Nan,” said Grace, as she took the dress up to the room where the little girl was combing her hair.

“It doesn’t matter at all,” Nan said. “Besides, it was Freddie who soaked it.”

“Yes, but I fell down in it and that tore it,” said Grace. “Mother dried, mended and pressed it out. She also made some changes in it. I hope you will like it. Look!”

Grace took the Bo-Peep costume from the box in which she had carried it from her house. As soon as she saw it, Nan knew the costume had been greatly improved. Mrs. Lavine had sewed on some shimmering gold lace and artificial rosebuds. This so freshened up the dress that it looked like new.

“Why, it’s lovelier than ever!” exclaimed Nan. “Oh, I’m going to put it on.”

Luckily, it had not. The changed dress fitted Nan perfectly and as she looked at herself in the glass she said it was lovely.

Dressed as a most beautiful Bo-Peep shepherdess, she went slowly down the front stairs. Her mother was in the hall with her father. Just as Nan reached the bottom step the front door opened and in walked Mr. Robin.

The actor looked quickly at Nan, then at her parents, then back again at the girl. Clapping his hands, he exclaimed:

“Bravo! Bravo! I never saw anything more perfect!” He bowed and added, “You are Miss Nan Bobbsey, I suppose?”

“Allow me to congratulate you for taking the part of Bo-Peep so perfectly. You will be the hit of the show!”

“I am not so sure of that,” said Mr. Robin mysteriously. “No, I am not so sure of that.”

“What do you mean?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey, as her husband and Mr. Robin shook hands after having been introduced.

“Why, there has been no rehearsal,” replied Mrs. Bobbsey. “This is just a dress Nan wore this summer at a hotel dance. Grace Lavine had it on when you rescued her from Freddie’s hose. But the dress is different, Nan. Who changed it?”

“Gorgeous!” agreed her mother. “Yet I don’t understand, Mr. Robin, what you meant when you said the show was not over.”

“I shall explain it later. Let us get our business out of the way, Mr. Bobbsey, if you please. Then I want to look at Nan again.”

CHAPTER V
FREDDIE DISAPPEARS

Mrs. Bobbsey led the way into the living room. Flossie and Freddie stared wide-eyed at Nan and her beautiful costume, while Mr. Bobbsey and Mr. Robin walked through the hall together. At the entrance to the living room the actor held aside the portieres. Bowing low, he ushered in Nan, saying:

“What band?” asked Freddie quickly. “There’s no band here, only we can turn on the radio and hear one.”

“He didn’t say ‘band.’ He said ‘banquet,’ ” whispered Bert, who had come to join the little party. “A banquet is something to eat.”

“Oh, goodie! We’re going to have something to eat!” exclaimed Flossie, and all the others laughed.

“Glad you do, Little Bo-Peep. You are something like my sister Mary down on my sheep ranch. I hope you may meet her. At any rate, I shall speak about you to her when I get home.”

“I am very curious about this mysterious business,” said Mrs. Bobbsey when they were all seated in the living room. “You didn’t say anything about it to me, Richard,” and she looked at her husband.

“I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance,” he said. “But I shall soon tell you. The Lumber Association, of which I am a member, has decided to hold a convention in San Francisco. It will begin in a few days. It has long been talked of but only just now decided. I am going to be a delegate, and——”

“We’ll see what Mother has to say,” spoke up Mr. Bobbsey with a smile. “If it can be arranged I may take you all. The only thing that bothers me is school. It will soon open, and——”

“It won’t open as soon as in other years,” Bert said. “They are making some repairs to our school building, which aren’t completed. Dan Rugg was telling me today that school won’t begin until the middle of October.”

“Oh, well, then everything will be all right,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “That gives you an extra month of vacation. In that case I may as well say that I’ll take you all to California with me if Mother agrees.” He looked at his wife.

“As if I’d refuse in the circumstances,” laughed Mrs. Bobbsey. “But what about this business you have with Mr. Robin?”

“It’s about this drama he and his friends are giving in Midvale,” went on Mr. Bobbsey. “I believe you are soon to leave for California and give some performances there, aren’t you?” he asked the actor.

“Yes. And then I am to leave the other players, who are to tour in a smaller production without me and my horse Nero. I shall go on to my ranch in Arizona. I may do some acting in moving pictures there, though arrangements haven’t been made yet. But I am eager to know what your business is with me and the player company, Mr. Bobbsey.”

“It can easily be told,” said the lumber merchant. “I was talking to some of our members. While this convention trip to San Francisco is partly for business, we want a little diversion, too. I was wondering if your company would give a few performances for us out on the West coast. I told my friends how much I enjoyed the religious play here, and they agreed they would like to see it.

“So, if you and the others are going to the same place we are, I wonder if you could give a few performances for us? We will guarantee your expenses. You might also sell general admission tickets and make more money that way. What do you say?”

“I say yes, Mr. Bobbsey,” was the answer. “I am manager of the company as well as one of the actors, and I know everyone will be glad to make some money. We haven’t made much so far. We plan to sail next week on the steamer Fountain, which is to make the Panama Canal trip.”

“That’s the steamer the members of the Lumber Association are sailing on,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “This is fine! We can all be together. I guess that settles it. We’ll arrange the details later.”

Flossie and Freddie, with Nan and Bert had been delighted listeners to this talk. They now appeared to be having a discussion in a corner of the room.

“Children! Children! What is this all about?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey. “You mustn’t get so excited.”

“I said,” explained Freddie, “that Mr. Robin would take his horse to California with him on the steamer.”

“And I said,” declared Flossie, “that you can’t put a horse on a boat, so Nero will have to swim after us. Won’t he, Mr. Robin?”

“I’m afraid that would be too long a swim for even so clever a horse as my Nero,” was the laughing answer. “This time Freddie is right. Nero will go on the steamer with me.”

“Not only horses, but elephants, tigers and lions,” said Mr. Robin. “That’s how men get wild circus animals here from the jungle. They are brought over in big steamers like the Fountain.”

“But where will Nero sleep and eat?” asked the still somewhat puzzled Flossie.

“Oh, I’ll have them build a stable for him below decks and he will have a stall with straw to sleep on, and plenty of hay, oats and water,” replied the actor. “This won’t be the first time Nero has traveled with me on a steamer. He never gets seasick.”

“And if you can arrange it,” said Mr. Robin, “I should be happy if you would all visit me at my ranch later.”

“I have one request to make,” went on Mr. Robin. “If you come to my ranch, I hope Nan will bring this Bo-Peep costume with her.”

“Well, I have a reason which I’ll tell you about later. Will you promise?”

Things happened very quickly after this second visit of Mr. Robin. The following day Mr. Bobbsey telephoned his wife from the lumber office to say that all arrangements had been made by the association members. They were to take the steamer from New York the next Monday.

“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey. “That doesn’t give me much time in which to pack. But I think I can do it.”

She did it very well with the help of Sam, Dinah, and the twins. Not that the younger twins aided much, for they were too excited, but Bert and Nan did. On the appointed day, after a train ride, the whole Bobbsey family walked up the gangplank of the Fountain in New York.

Mr. Robin and the members of his company were already on board, for they had closed the show in Midvale two days before.

“He is safe down below,” Mr. Robin answered, “munching his hay and oats. I’ll take you to see him a little later.”

“Not a bit,” said Mr. Robin. “He walked on as if it was one of his tricks. Oh, Nero is a fine horse!”

Passengers were hurrying aboard the steamer. Freight was being loaded into the holds. Tugs were fussing and steaming about the vessel, getting ready to tow her out into the Hudson River, down which she would steam into the Atlantic, and thence along the coast to the Panama Canal.

As the time for leaving drew near, the confusion on the steamer and the dock increased. Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey had taken the children to the cabins they were to occupy on the trip. Their parents were to have one cabin, Flossie and Nan another, while Bert and Freddie would bunk together. The three staterooms adjoined.

After their baggage had been put away, the Bobbsey twins and their parents went up on deck to watch the lines being cast off and the Fountain being towed from the dock.

A shrill whistle announced that all was in readiness. The puffing tugs began to pull the big steamer out into the river to the lively tunes of the band. Mr. Bobbsey and other members of the Lumber Association waved farewell to their friends on the dock. Three of the Bobbsey twins looked on in delight, but Freddie was not with them. Mrs. Bobbsey suddenly discovered that her little boy had disappeared.

“Freddie! Freddie! Where is Freddie!” she cried. “Oh, he must have gone back on the dock! Stop the steamer! We can’t go without Freddie!”

CHAPTER VI
FUN AT SEA

Instantly there was a great deal of excitement. Several other passengers took up the cry of, “Stop the ship! Stop the ship!”

“What’s the matter?” asked an officer, running over to the place where Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey stood with Nan, Bert and Flossie. “Has someone fallen overboard?”

“It isn’t as bad as that,” said Mr. Bobbsey, trying to speak calmly though he was a little worried because Freddie had so suddenly disappeared. “I’m sure he didn’t fall overboard. I warned him to keep away from the rail.”

“But Freddie is missing!” cried the little boy’s mother. “He was right here with us a moment ago and now he is gone! I think he must have run back on the dock—probably for something he forgot. We must stop and get him.”

“I don’t believe he went back on the dock,” Bert said. “He was here with me when they hauled the gangplanks away. He couldn’t have gone ashore.”

“I don’t believe he did,” said the officer. “No one went ashore after the word was given to cast off. Your little boy must be aboard somewhere.”

The steamer was now well out into the Hudson River and was beginning to move under her own power. The tugs cast off their lines and blew farewell toots.

“Freddie! Freddie!” cried Mrs. Bobbsey, while Flossie added her cries to those of her mother.

The two older twins started on the search, as did many other passengers. One of the sailors got a lifebuoy ready to throw overboard in case anyone should see a little bobbing head. But none was visible.

Mr. Robin came along the deck and saw Nan and Bert hurrying toward him, anxious looks on their faces.

“Oh, how dreadful! But he must be somewhere on the ship,” said Nero’s master. “I’ll help you look.”

As the three walked toward a deck ventilator (a large curved pipe with a flaring hood that can be turned, so cool wind will blow down to the hot engine room) someone called from it:

“Then he must be in the ventilator!” said Mr. Robin. He leaped toward it and looked down in, for the flaring hood was large. Then the actor called, “Yes, Freddie is here!”

A moment later Mr. Robin reached down inside the pipe. After a pull and a tug he lifted Freddie out. The little fellow’s face was red and streaked with soot and his clothes were dirty and mussed, but he was not hurt.

“I’ll run and tell Mother we’ve found him,” offered Nan, not stopping to listen to the explanation.

“I thought this would be a good way to slide down to Nero’s stall. Isn’t this where they throw hay down to him?”

“Oh, Freddie’s thinking of a hay chute in the barn where we played when we went to the country,” laughed Bert. “The hay is in an upper loft and we used to push it down a wooden chute, like this ventilator pipe, to the mangers in the horse stalls below. No, Freddie, this isn’t a hay chute.”

“I guess maybe it isn’t,” said the little boy, rubbing one knee where the skin was scratched off a little. “But I should like to see Nero.”

“You shall see him,” promised Mr. Robin. “But don’t ever try to slide down a ventilator pipe. You don’t know where you might end up!”

His mother, piloted by Nan, came running along the deck, followed by his father and some passengers as well as the officer who had been talking to the Bobbseys.

“Freddie, what in the world will you do next?” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey, shaking her head. At times she didn’t know just what to think of some of her twins.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Freddie answered. “I guess after a while I’ll give Nero some sugar.”

“He’ll be glad to see you,” laughed Mr. Robin. “Well, the lost is found,” he said to the officer.

“And I’m glad of it,” was the reply. “We don’t want to start a voyage with one of our important passengers missing.”

The excitement caused by Freddie’s disappearance ceased after it became known that he had been found. The passengers who had joined in the search for the little boy went to their deck chairs or to their cabins to arrange their baggage, while the ship steamed down the big river toward the open sea.

The Fountain had cast off shortly before noon. After passing the Statue of Liberty and the forts at the entrance to New York Harbor, Bert and Nan felt that their voyage was well under way. As for Flossie and Freddie, they were so busy running about that they gave little thought to where they were going or what might happen after they arrived. The two small twins were in so many different places on the ship that their mother feared they might get into mischief even before lunch, which was to be at one o’clock.

“Suppose I take them down to see Nero?” suggested Mr. Robin, as he saw how worried Mrs. Bobbsey was growing.

“Come on, Freddie and Flossie!” called the actor to the small twins. “Let’s go down and make sure Nero gets his lunch.”

He obtained some lumps from a dining room steward. Then, with Flossie and Freddie, he went into the lower hold where a kind of stable had been constructed for Nero. The trick horse whinnied in delight as he heard his master’s step and voice.

“Well, you have a good berth here, Nero,” said Mr. Robin as he stroked his pet animal. “And we have a surprise for you—sugar!”

Nero whinnied again. Then, to the delight of Flossie and Freddie, he counted out how many lumps he wanted, starting off with at least a hundred. But he got only ten—five from Flossie and five from Freddie.

Soon it was one o’clock, and time for the passengers to have their lunch. After seeing to it that Nero had plenty of hay and oats to eat and clean straw on which to lie down, Mr. Robin took the small twins up to the dining room where they joined their parents. The Bobbsey family had a table all to themselves.

Mr. Robin sat with the members of his company, about a dozen in all. They were a merry company too, talking a great deal and laughing among themselves, much to the amusement of the other passengers. The members of the Lumber Association had several tables along one side of the dining salon, and after Mr. Bobbsey had eaten part of the meal with his family, he went over to join his business acquaintances for the remainder of the luncheon. The Fountain was filled with a happy, jolly crowd.

As this was not the first time the Bobbsey twins had been on a sea voyage, happenings aboard the Fountain were not as new and strange to them as they otherwise would have been. Flossie and Freddie remembered other ocean trips they had taken. When the vessel began to rock and roll, and to heave up and down on the waves they were not alarmed, nor did they become ill as did several other children and grown-ups. The whole Bobbsey family was a group of good sailors.

It seemed a little strange at first to the children to go to bed in the berths of their cabins, but they soon got used to it and slept well. As this was more of a pleasure voyage than a business trip, Mr. Bobbsey and his friends had many good times playing deck games. There were also amusements for the children, of which there were many aboard.

One night Mr. Robin’s company of players gave a little show; not the one they had presented in Midvale, but a funny performance which caused much laughter. Then someone proposed that the rest of the passengers do what they could in the way of entertainment, and many volunteered. Some sang, some danced, some played the piano and a few recited. Mr. Robin and Nan could be seen whispering together during the passengers’ show, and toward the close of it the actor got up to announce that he had the honor of presenting a real, live Bo-Peep.

Nan, who was dressed in her costume, next appeared on the stage. The curtains were pulled back and a “spot-light” was turned on her. She made such a pretty “living picture” that the applause was loud and long.

“Why Nan!” exclaimed her mother after it was over, “you are getting to be a regular little actress, with make-up and everything.”

Nan’s cheeks were tinted red, and eye-shadow was used to make her eyes more luminous under the strong light.

Flossie and Freddie had fun of their own. They had discovered that at about ten o’clock each morning the deck stewards served tea, coffee and bouillon in cute little cups with salted crackers to any of the passengers who might want this refreshment. Flossie and Freddie did not care much about anything except the crackers, of which they were very fond.

“But they don’t give you enough crackers,” Freddie complained to his sister. “I want more.”

The next morning when the stewards came around, Freddie and Flossie sat in their deck chairs and received their portions. They had some milk to drink. After they had drunk it, Freddie, stuffing his own and Flossie’s crackers into his pocket, whispered to her to follow him. The little boy ran in through the promenade salon and out on deck again, getting ahead of the serving steward. Then they seated themselves in some empty deck chairs, and received second helpings.

“I don’t want any more milk,” Freddie said to Flossie, “but we have a lot of crackers now. Let’s have a picnic.”

Of course, what they did was all right. If Freddie had asked for more crackers he would have received them. But he and Flossie thought it more fun to get them this way. They did it every day on the voyage. The steward, of course, soon caught on to their little trick, but he only laughed about it, not caring at all.

After many sunny, happy days of travel the boat reached the Panama Canal. The ship steamed slowly through this new channel which greatly shortens the distance between New York and San Francisco. The canal cuts through the narrow strip of land connecting North and South America, and is a great saver of time.

When the immense locks were reached, the children and such passengers as had never before made the trip were greatly interested in watching their ship as it was towed into the spaces between the immense gates by the electric engines running on tracks on either side of the locks. When the gates had been closed water was let in, and the great ship was raised up as easily as if it had been a feather.

Out through the Pacific Ocean end of the canal and up the Pacific coast the Fountain steamed, until at last someone cried:

“It means we are approaching California,” said his father. “It is a poetical name given to the entrance to San Francisco harbor. We must get ready to go ashore. Our voyage is now over.”

CHAPTER VII
THE SNAKE-CHARMER

There was almost as much noise and excitement getting off the Fountain as there had been boarding her in New York. But this time Freddie did not get lost. He and the other children, as well as several grown-ups, were interested in seeing how Nero was to get off the ship.

“He is clever enough to walk up the companionway stairs,” said Mr. Robin. “As there are many flights, and Nero is so far down in the boat, I am going to have him hoisted out by a derrick.”

The actor, with some men helping him, adjusted under Nero a canvas sling, which is a sort of hammock with ropes on each end. First the end ropes were brought together over Nero’s back. Next, a hook and chain from a deck derrick was attached to the ropes, and a steam winch, sometimes called a “donkey engine,” hoisted the horse up from the dark hold out onto the deck, gently landing him on the dock where the ship was made fast.

This queer way of getting off a ship, instead of by a gangplank, as he had come on, did not seem to bother Nero in the least. He whinnied when his master went up to him to take off the sling, and then ate ten lumps of sugar.

Finally all the passengers had gone ashore, including the Bobbseys, the members of Mr. Robin’s company, and the lumber delegates.

“Are we going to stay in San Francisco?” asked Bert, when their baggage had been put off.

“No,” his father said. “Our Association decided we would hold our convention outside of San Francisco in a more quiet place. But we shall visit the city and other parts of California.”

“I hope after you have finished with California,” said Mr. Robin, “you will find time to come to Arizona to my ranch.”

That night the Bobbsey twins and their parents engaged rooms at a small hotel outside of San Francisco. Mr. Robin’s company of players stayed there, too. Nero was kept in a stable near by.

The lumber delegates were in another hotel not far away, where they would hold meetings which would last nearly a week. At the end of the session they were to attend a special performance of Mr. Robin’s players, who in the meantime would be performing for the public.

There were many new and strange sights for the Bobbsey twins to enjoy in California. While their father was busy attending meetings of the Lumber Association, Mrs. Bobbsey took the children on trips about the country. Once they went to see some of California’s famous redwood trees.

Mrs. Bobbsey explained. “The wood inside of them is of a deep red color. They are really known as Sequoia. They got that name from an Indian named Sequoiah, who is also the inventor of the alphabet used by the Cherokee tribe of Indians. Just why these giant trees were named after Sequoiah I cannot tell you. Perhaps he may have been the first to discover them.”

“Not of the old ones, and they grow only in a small area. They are now preserved from being cut down, and are regarded as a national curiosity.”

“Some are three hundred feet high,” his mother explained. “They are called the ‘oldest living things.’ They really are alive, you know, as are all growing plants, but they are very old.”

“How old?” asked Nan, while Freddie and Flossie played about in the Sequoia grove, but little interested in the giant trees.

“Well, it is hard to say,” Mrs. Bobbsey answered. “Some scientists say they are over three thousand years old, others say only a thousand.”

“I bet Daddy wishes he had lumber from these trees to sell,” said Bert. “Have we any wood that looks like it?”

“Yes, Daddy sells red cedar and mahogany sometimes. They look like the redwood.”

One tree had a passageway cut through the trunk at the ground level. The hole was large enough for an automobile to be driven through.

These giant trees, together with many other interesting sights, kept the Bobbsey twins entertained while their father was busy at the convention. Once they were taken by their mother to a matinée performance of Mr. Robin’s players. The children especially enjoyed parts of it when Nero performed.

After the matinée they waited until Mr. Robin could change from his costume into ordinary clothes. Then he came around to see them.

“Well, our company will soon disband for this season,” Mr. Robin told Mrs. Bobbsey and the children. “After we have given a performance for the lumbermen, our work will have been finished.”

“Yes,” said the actor. “I have signed a contract in which Nero and I will appear in a picture, some of the scenes of which are to be filmed at the ranch. It will give Nero and me a chance to make some money, for I can’t say that just now sheep ranching pays very well.”

“For several of the scenes. Perhaps he may do even better in the movies than I will.”

“Oh, I don’t think so!” said Nan, who had a deep admiration for the actor.

“So,” went on Mr. Robin, “Nero and I will soon change from religious drama to the more exciting half-comedy, half-tragedy of a sheep ranch moving picture. You haven’t forgotten that I am expecting you all out to my place, have you, Mrs. Bobbsey?” he asked.

On the afternoon of the day of the final evening performance of Mr. Robin’s company of players, which was to be given especially for the Lumber Association, Mrs. Bobbsey took the twins out to the open-air theatre. They wanted to go “behind the scenes,” which they had not yet had an opportunity of doing.

“Aren’t you coming, Freddie?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey. With Nan, Bert and Flossie she was ready to be shown about the place by one of the men in the company, appointed for the purpose by Mr. Robin.

“No, thank you,” Freddie answered. “I want to stay and see ’em make the torches.”

One scene of the religious drama had to do with a procession of men and women carrying lighted torches across the natural stage. These torches were made of twisted bark and after a supply of them had been burned in an evening performance, it was the duty of the “property man” and his helpers to make new ones. This they were doing near one of the small buildings containing the “properties” as well as the costumes of Mr. Robin and his players.

“Well, don’t wander away and get lost,” Mrs. Bobbsey warned Freddie, as she and the other children went on a short tour of inspection.

“I won’t,” the little boy promised. So he watched the making of the torches and was interested in some other things the property man and his helpers had to do.

When these men went into one of the buildings, leaving Freddie alone outside, he saw a strange figure coming toward him. It was that of a Mexican, as Freddie guessed by his dark face, and he carried a basket from which came a peculiar rattling noise.

“Hallo, leetla boy,” greeted the Mexican, speaking with a queer accent. “What you do here?”

“Oh, I was just watching them make some torches for tonight’s play,” Freddie answered.

“You mean Harvey Robin and hees horse Nero is playing here?” asked the Mexican with sudden interest.

“Of a certain I know heem!” declared the Mexican. “And he knows me—tell heem Joe Vega was asking for him!” The man smiled in a way Freddie did not like. “I have something for heem!” he went on, tapping his basket from which came that strange whirring, buzzing sound.

“What have you?” asked Freddie. “I don’t believe Mr. Robin is here now. But what’s in the basket?”

“Snakes!” suddenly exclaimed Joe Vega, speaking the word almost as if a snake had hissed it. “Snakes! See, I will charm them for you! Look, leetla boy!”

Suddenly he placed the basket on the ground and threw back the cover. Then, as he began to play strange music on a little wooden fife, Freddie saw with alarm that the basket was filled with writhing rattlesnakes and other serpents.

CHAPTER VIII
“WHERE IS NERO?”

Above the noise of the whirring rattles of the snakes and to the accompaniment of the soft music, Joe Vega grinned at the retreating Freddie and called:

Somewhat reassured by the Mexican’s words, Freddie halted and looked back. Then he saw a strange performance. Holding in one hand the little wooden fife on which he continued to blow, the Mexican reached into the basket of writhing serpents with his other hand and lifted several of them out. How many he took Freddie could not count, as they were twisted together in knots and tangles.

“See!” exclaimed the Mexican. “Snakes no harm Joe Vega. He charm the snakes. I bring them for my friend, Mr. Robin.”

“What does he want of them?” asked Freddie, watching in fascination as Joe placed some snakes around his own neck.

“He use them in his show—he pay me money for them,” said the Mexican snake-charmer with a wide grin that showed his white teeth. “Snakes make much people come to Mr. Robin’s show. He make money—Joe Vega make money—everybody happy, leetla boy! Ha! Ha!”

It seemed strange that he could be so merry and gay with such dangerous reptiles as rattlesnakes twined about him, but such was the case. Probably Joe Vega had pulled out the poison fangs before pretending to “charm” them, for all snake-charming is only make-believe. Certain men have less fear of snakes than others and can handle them more easily. But a poisonous snake is always a poisonous snake, and is likely to bite even the best “charmer” unless its fangs have been removed.

A poisonous snake’s fang consists of two long, sharp upper teeth which are hollow. When the snake’s mouth is closed, they are folded back against the roof of the mouth. When the reptile opens his jaws to “strike” or bite, the fangs drop down. As soon as they enter the flesh of a person or animal, poison is forced down through the hollows into the wound. This substance comes from a little bag in the snake’s head.

The bite of a poisonous snake does not always cause death, although that of rattlesnakes has been known to kill. The bite of certain other snakes is nearly always deadly, especially of the cobra of India, with which Indian “charmers” often perform. But when a snake’s fangs have been pulled out, the reptile is harmless.

Freddie did not know that Joe Vega might have pulled out the fangs of his snakes. As he saw the Mexican so boldly handling the reptiles as he played on the fife, he thought he was doing a very daring thing indeed. Many men would have thought the same thing.

“What you theenk of that, leetla boy?” asked Joe, as he slowly and carefully put the snakes back in the basket.

“Then maybe, leetla boy, you go find Mr. Robin an’ tell him Joe Vega is here with something for his show. Mr. Robin glad to have something for his show. You go tell him. He know me.”

“All right,” Freddie answered. “Golly! Bert and Nan will want to see this!” he murmured as he sped away. “But I guess maybe Flossie won’t. She doesn’t like snakes.”

Not pausing to find his mother and the other children, Freddie began scouting around the open-air theatre in search of Mr. Robin. It did not take him long to find the actor.

“Oh, Mr. Robin!” Freddie exclaimed, as he met Nero’s master. “Joe Vega wants to see you and he has the snakes!”

“Joe who?” asked Mr. Robin sharply, pausing in the act of looking at a beautiful costume to be used in the play that night.

“Joe Vega, the snake-charmer. He’s out near the place where the men are making torches. And he has a basket of snakes and played for them.”

“Joe Vega! Is that rascal around again!” exclaimed Mr. Robin impatiently, with an air of anger. Then, seeing that Freddie looked as if he had done something wrong in speaking of the Mexican, the actor added:

“It isn’t your fault, Freddie. I suppose he told you to bring the message to me?”

“As if I would do that! He knows better. This is a trick to get my attention. I’ll have nothing to do with that rascal. You go tell him—but no, wait—I’ll go. Thanks, Freddie, for letting me know. But after this have nothing to do with Joe Vega! He is a bad man. Come, I will send him away.”

Freddie followed Mr. Robin, and met his mother with Nan, Bert and Flossie. They had finished looking around behind the scenes.

“Freddie got mixed up with an old rascally acquaintance of mine, a man who pretends to be a snake-charmer,” explained Mr. Robin. “But Joe Vega is a scoundrel and nothing less, though I will say he isn’t afraid of rattlers. I’ll send him about his business!”

The Bobbsey twins and their mother followed Mr. Robin to the place where Freddie had left Joe Vega, which was near the side entrance to the open-air stage. The Mexican was there with his basket of whirring reptiles.

“Ah, Mr. Robin!” he greeted, as he saw the actor. “I have something for your show!”

“Yes, he told me, but I want nothing to do with you or your snakes. I wouldn’t use snakes in my play anyhow. If I cared to have them I would never use yours. I don’t want you around here.”

“You know I don’t like you and you know the reason why. Now get away from here before I send the police after you. Get away! Quick!”

He spoke so sternly, and shook his finger at Joe Vega so forcibly, that the Mexican slunk away, taking his basket of snakes with him. There was a look of anger on the man’s dark face, and as he slowly made his way amid the trees he muttered:

“Don’t threaten me!” exclaimed Mr. Robin. “I’m not afraid of you or your snakes. If I catch you around here again I’ll have you arrested.”

The Bobbsey twins looked and listened in surprise to what had just taken place. Mrs. Bobbsey did not seem to understand what it was all about. Then Mr. Robin said:

“I am sorry this had to happen. Joe Vega is a Mexican sheepherder and once worked for me on my ranch. One time I painted some pictures of sheep and horses and needed a herder to pose for me, so I got Joe Vega to take the rôle. For a time he did very well. Then he grew careless and did not come to work on time. When he did come, he was in no condition to pose properly, so I had to discharge him. That made him angry. I suppose he holds a grudge against me for that. Several times and in several ways, he has tried to make friends with me.

“But I will have nothing more to do with him. This snake trick of his is a new one. He probably hoped I would be interested. But I am not. I don’t know how he found out I was playing here, and I hope he causes no more trouble. Tell the twins, Mrs. Bobbsey, to have nothing to do with this man.”

“You hear what Mr. Robin says,” spoke the mother of the children. “I know you will do as he says.”

“Well, I guess this will be the last of Joe Vega for a while,” said Mr. Robin. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’ll go back and see that all is in readiness for tonight’s final show. I want to give a good performance for Mr. Bobbsey and his friends.”

By special permission Flossie and Freddie were to be allowed to attend the evening rendition, something their mother very seldom permitted them to do. But they promised to stay in bed late the next day to make up for the sleep they would lose.

“And now we can make plans for the rest of our trip,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “In a few days we can start for Arizona to visit Mr. Robin on his ranch.”

As they were getting ready to attend the final performance, the twins became more excited than usual, thinking of what fun they would have on the sheep ranch. Their mother had to urge them to hurry changing their clothes.

At last the play came to an end. The actors, including Mr. Robin and Nero, took their final bows.

“Wait for me,” said Mr. Bobbsey to his family as they prepared to go out. “I want to see Mr. Robin about something. I’ll join you at the stage entrance.”

With the twins she made her way to a spot near the place where Freddie had seen Joe Vega “charming” his rattlesnakes. Actors and actresses were hurrying to and fro, packing up.

“Oh, there’s Nero!” exclaimed Flossie, as she caught sight of the black horse in the glare of the electric lights which gleamed about the grounds.

He and his small sister hurried toward the trick horse, which was in charge of a groom, one of Mr. Robin’s stage hands. Mrs. Bobbsey, Nan and Bert had stopped a little distance away to talk to one of the actresses whom they had come to know. As Flossie and Freddie reached Nero, someone near a pile of packing boxes called:

“I can’t,” answered the man in charge of Mr. Robin’s horse. “I must hold Nero. Mr. Robin told me to.”

“Well, I must have some help to close this case,” said the other man. “Come here—it will take but a minute!”

The man, who had seen the small twins in the company of Mr. Robin several times, recognized them again. He knew Nero was so gentle that a child could easily watch him for the little while he intended to be gone. So he said:

“All right. Just keep an eye on him. I’ll be back as soon as I give Tom a hand. Steady now, Nero!”

Nero bobbed his head up and down as if to say “yes.” Then Freddie took hold of his halter rope, as did Flossie. The two children, very proud of their task, stood near the trick horse, which gently put his soft, velvety nose down and rubbed their hands.

“The best horse I ever saw!” exclaimed Freddie, as if he were an expert in such matters.

Sam was gone longer than he had expected. Several minutes passed. Flossie and Freddie could hear him and Tom talking and hammering away at the packing case.

Then, suddenly, from out of the shadows a little distance away there came the sound of music. It was a hand organ which had been used in a scene of the play. One of the actors, in a spirit of fun, had given the handle a twirl, which sent out the strains. To Flossie and Freddie a hand organ meant but one thing—a cute monkey with it.

“Maybe it’s the hand organ man and the monkey we had when we gave the play for Nan!” exclaimed Flossie.

Forgetting that they were supposed to be taking care of Nero, the little twins let go of the halter rope and ran toward the music. They were disappointed when they found it was only one of Mr. Robin’s actors turning the handle. There was no Italian and no monkey.

But when they returned, Nero was gone. The trick horse was nowhere to be seen, though they walked all around the spot where he had been standing. They even peered into the dark shadows.

CHAPTER IX
BERT IS RAMMED

“Oh, yes,” Flossie agreed. “He must have. I was afraid for a while that Nero had been stolen.”

The relief of the twins did not last long, however. At a little distance their mother, Bert, and Nan were talking to the actress. Sam, the man who had been in charge of Nero, returned after having helped his friend Tom.

“Why, where’s Nero?” he asked, and his voice showed alarm. “What did you do with him?”

“We didn’t do anything,” Freddie answered. “We stood here holding him, then we heard music, and we went to see who was playing.”

“And when we came back,” added her brother, “Nero was gone. But Mr. Robin must have come and taken him while we were gone.”

“No!” exclaimed Sam. “No! Mr. Robin didn’t take his horse. Here he comes now, and he hasn’t Nero with him.”

It was true enough. Mr. Robin was hurrying toward the place where he had left Sam in charge of the trick horse. Nero was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh! Oh!” gasped Flossie, as she began to understand what had taken place. “Oh!”

“Where’s Nero, Sam?” asked Mr. Robin as he came up. “Where’s my horse, Sam?”

“I know you did, Mr. Robin, but I—well—I shouldn’t have done it, but I let these children hold Nero while I went to help Tom nail up one of the packing cases. You’d better tell him the rest,” he said to the twins.

Falteringly they told their part of the story. Mr. Robin did not scold them. And all he said to Sam was:

“You shouldn’t have done this, no matter how much Tom wanted your help. Nero is more valuable than a dozen packing cases.”

“I know, Mr. Robin,” said Sam sorrowfully. “I shouldn’t have done it and I never will again.”

“He wouldn’t do that. I begin to suspect now what has happened. I believe Nero has been stolen, and I think I know who took him.”

Mr. Robin did not mention any names, but Freddie could not help wondering if he might mean Joe Vega, the Mexican snake-charmer.

“Of course,” went on the actor, “there is just a chance that Nero may have wandered away. We’ll look for him but I’ll also notify the police. Sam, get some of the hands and search the grounds. I’ll go telephone headquarters.”

“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey, coming along with Bert and Nan.

“Oh, Freddie! Flossie!” she said sadly. “What a careless thing to do! To leave a horse you are in charge of to go listen to hand organ music.”

“But we wanted to see if there was a monkey—and there wasn’t,” said Flossie, almost ready to cry. Freddie also felt tears in his eyes. But being a boy, he held them back.

“Don’t blame the children, Mrs. Bobbsey,” said Mr. Robin. “It wasn’t really their fault. I should have been more careful after what happened this afternoon.”

Again Freddie wondered if the actor had in mind the snake-charmer, but Mr. Robin did not say a word about it.

A search of the grounds was begun at once. Several of the stage hands as well as some men of the drama company took searchlights and looked for Nero, while Mr. Robin went to a telephone to notify the police to be on the watch for his valuable horse which probably had been stolen.

“They’ll do all they can,” the actor said, joining the Bobbseys. “Well, it’s too bad Nero is gone, but that must not spoil your visit to my ranch. I’ll have to go on without Nero, but I shall expect you out in Arizona as you promised.”

In fact, there were many sad hearts that night because of the loss of Nero. But Mrs. Bobbsey was a kind mother.

“Of course we’ll go to the ranch,” she said. “You little twins should not be punished for something you did not mean to do, though I must say you were careless.”

“Don’t think any more about it, please,” kindly urged Mr. Robin. “I may get Nero back. I have given the police some clues to work on. And now I must bid you goodnight. I’ll see you all later at my ranch.”

“I was thinking,” said Bert, “that maybe you could train another horse to do tricks like Nero.”

“Yes, I might,” Mr. Robin replied, “but there will never be another like Nero. Don’t feel bad about it, though. It couldn’t be helped and I may get him back.”

It was a week later that they arrived at Mr. Robin’s ranch in Arizona. They had traveled slowly from California, making little speed. Mr. Bobbsey wanted his family to see the southwest country which they had never before visited. The actor and his sister Mary were at the ranch to greet them when they arrived.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here!” said the owner, as he welcomed the Bobbsey twins and their parents. The man looked different than usual. He was dressed as a sheepboy, if there is such a character. Sheep herding is not much like looking after cattle, as cows and steers are called, for there is not so much work in minding the smaller animals. No lassoing is necessary, for sheep are far more gentle and less inclined to stampede and run away than are cattle.

“No, I didn’t,” was the answer. “And I have heard nothing about my horse. Now I want you to forget Nero. Don’t let the loss of him spoil your visit here. I want you to have a good time. Mary,” he said to his pretty sister, “this is Nan, the Little Bo-Peep I have been telling you about.”

“Oh, I do hope you have brought that costume with you,” said Mary Robin as she greeted Nan.

“Yes, I have,” was the reply, “though I hardly think I shall have much use of it out here.”

“You never can tell,” said Mr. Robin, smiling. “You forget there is to be part of a moving picture taken at this ranch. I may want you to take the rôle of a shepherdess, Nan.”

“I have never acted in real movies,” Nan said, “though Daddy has a small camera with which he took some pictures of us.”

“Well, don’t worry about it,” advised the ranchman. “It will be very simple if it is done at all. Now, I must make you feel at home. First, we’ll show you your rooms.”

There were several buildings on the sheep ranch, one being a fairly large house in which Mr. Robin lived with his sister. The twins noticed that there were several paintings of sheep and horses on the walls. One large canvas showed a man standing near a horse looking at a ewe, or mother sheep, and her little lamb. He seemed very much like Joe Vega.

“Just a few of my attempts at being an artist,” said Mr. Robin, leading the way to the bedrooms.

To the surprise of Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey, the place was fitted up with many conveniences found only in city houses. Yet the home of the sheep rancher was in a wild and rather desolate country.

“From a little lake up in the hills. I had the water piped here to the house. There is nothing like water in a warm climate such as we have here most of the year,” he added.

They were assigned to their rooms, of which there was an ample supply. Yielding to the entreaties of the small twins, Mrs. Bobbsey said Flossie and Freddie might put on their “old clothes” and go out to play around the ranch.

“Oh, none at all. Sheep are quite different from cattle—they never run wild. Then, too, the children can’t get lost, for we are in a valley, and as there are few trees here the ranch buildings are visible for miles around.”

They promised they would not. As Mary wanted to show Nan about the house, and as Mr. Robin wished Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey to see certain things about his ranch, Bert was left to go off by himself.

“I think I’ll find out what horses Mr. Robin has,” he told himself. “Maybe I can pick out one I can help him train in place of Nero.”

The boy wandered out over the ranch. In the distance he saw herds of many hundreds of sheep grazing on the green grass. He saw the herders, most of whom were Mexicans, some afoot, some on horses. With them were dogs, which are necessary in caring for sheep the same way ponies are needed to help the cowboys look after cattle.

Spying a small corral in which there were several horses, Bert decided to go over and have a look at them. Halfway to the corral, which was a fenced-in place like a small pasture, Bert noticed that his left shoe lace had come untied. He stooped to fix it, making sure, at the same time, that the other would not come undone.

He was about to rise and go on, when suddenly he heard behind him a loud “Baa-a-a-a-a!”

Before he could get to his feet something rammed Bert violently from behind. He was knocked over and turned a perfect somersault. As he stood upright again he saw an old ram with big, curved horns, rushing toward him.

CHAPTER X
A NEW NERO

“Wow!” shouted Bert, jumping to his feet, ready to run, for he knew he would stand a poor chance in a battle with the savage old ram. “Wow! I thought a sheep ranch was a safe place. But if they have many rams like this one I’d rather be a cowboy on a horse!”

He ran as fast as he could toward the corral, thinking that if he could get over the fence and among the horses he would be safer than out in the open with an angry ram. That the animal was angry Bert had no doubt, though he had done nothing to provoke the big daddy-sheep.

“I wonder if I have anything red on me?” thought Bert, as he ran on as fast as he could, noting, with a glance over his shoulder, that his enemy was coming on speedily.

“I didn’t know,” Bert mused, “that old rams were like bulls and don’t like to see red, but maybe they are. Anyhow, I’m sure I have no red on me. This beast must be just naturally mean.

“Wow! He’s getting closer!” Bert cried, as another look showed him the ram had lessened the distance between them. “And that corral is a good ways off yet.”

As Bert dashed toward the fenced-in horses, he suddenly heard a man calling to him. Riding in his direction on a horse was a very large, fat man wearing some of the garments of a cow-puncher. He seemed almost too big for the small pony which he was riding, but Western pintos are very sturdy as Bert knew.

“Leg it, son! Leg it!” shouted the man. Bert knew he meant for him to keep on running. “That’s a bad old ram! He’ll get you if he can! Jump over the fence and you’ll be safe. I don’t see how Sampson got loose!”

Sampson appeared to be the ram’s name. A very good one, Bert thought, as he tried to increase his speed. But he was getting tired and out of breath. The corral still seemed a long way off.

The man on the horse was now riding toward Bert and the ram. The stranger carried a lasso slung at his saddle-horn. In another moment the sheep-rancher loosened his lariat for a throw.

Calling to his pony, the rider sent it forward at a faster pace. Then, when Bert felt as if he could not run another step, the lariat sailed through the air. The loop fell over Sampson’s head, the trained pony braced back, and the next moment the ram went turning over and over in a series of somersaults.

“He turned more somersaults than I did!” laughed Bert, as he managed to reach the fence and climb to the top rail. The horses inside the corral appeared only mildly interested in the boy, though one of them came toward him and another looked over the fence at the ram which had now gotten to his feet and was pulling at the taut lasso.

“Steady now, you cantankerous old critter!” shouted the laughing sheepherder. “I’ve got you, and I’m going to tie you up until we can get you back in your pen.”

“Do you keep him in a pen?” asked Bert, gradually getting back his breath as he sat on the corral fence.

“We aim to,” was the reply, “but he gets out every now and again and cuts up this way. Most of us here on the ranch know his funny ways and watch out for him. I take it you’re a stranger here.”

“Oh, yes, I heard a bunch of twins was coming out here. Well, you’re safe in the corral, anyhow. How many more of you are there?”

“Three,” said Bert, who had taken a sudden liking to his rescuer. “I’m Bert. Then there’s my twin sister Nan, and two other twins, Flossie and Freddie.”

“Mr. Robin said he had some visitors coming,” went on the man, “but he didn’t mention any names. So it’s Bobbsey, eh?”

“Well, it’s nice to have company out here,” went on the herder. “It’s sort of lonesome, most times, excepting maybe when Sampson goes on a rampage. No, you don’t, you cantankerous old ram!” he yelled as the animal tried to pull away.

He circled his horse around the old sheep, winding some coils of the lariat about the animal’s legs and so tangled him that he was easy to handle. Then the herder tied the animal fast in his own way and anchored him to the corral fence.

“That’ll keep you out of mischief,” he said as he finished. “You can get down now, Bobbsey twin,” he added, smiling. “Let’s see—you said your name was——”

“Oh, yes, Bert. Well, I’m Jim Ranson—Slim Jim they call me,” and he laughed as he thought of the difference between his nickname and his own big, fat body.

“Same to you, son. Now, I think maybe you’d better be getting back to the ranch house. The news’ll spread that Sampson is loose and when your folks hear what he’s like they’ll worry about you. Want to ride back?”

“Well, not on Big Boy here, if you mean my pony,” laughed Slim Jim. “He’s got about all he can carry. But I can take one of the ponies out of the corral. I think there’s a spare saddle and bridle over in that box,” and he indicated one inside the fence. “I’ll get you out a gentle critter. Can you ride?”

“A little,” Bert modestly answered. Really, he was a good rider for a boy of his age.

“That’s fine,” said Slim. “You can go back to the ranch house in style.”

He dropped the reins of his pony over the animal’s head as a signal to stand still. Then he crawled through some opened bars into the corral, for he was too fat to jump the top rail, and got a saddle and bridle from the box.

There was one particular horse Slim wanted to catch. It was about the size of the missing Nero, but dark gray in color and with a striking “blaze” on the face. It was a handsome animal.

“Here’s a horse!” Slim exclaimed as he led the animal, saddled and bridled, out of the corral.

“Oh, you mean Mr. Robin’s trick horse,” answered Slim. “Yes, it is. Nero was fine. But there’s one almost as good,” he added, pointing to the mount on which Bert was now astride. As the two rode away, they left Sampson the ram, bleating and struggling, tied to a post of the corral.

“Well, not quite, of course. But he could be made so by a little training, I claim. Mr. Robin got Nero out of a bunch of horses we took over from another ranch. He wasn’t so good at first, Nero wasn’t. But Mr. Robin trained him proper. Now I claim Smoky, here, will turn out to be as good as Nero if he gets the proper training.”

“It’s a name I gave him,” said Slim. “His other name was Blaze, on account of the white on his face, like a blazed tree, you know. But after Mr. Robin started training Nero, I took Smoky in hand. And I think, if I’d had time, I could have made him just as good.”

“A few. Wait, I’ll show you one. Steady, Smoky!” he called to Bert’s horse. Instantly the animal stopped short.

“That’s all I had time to teach him,” said the herder. “But I don’t doubt but that Mr. Robin could easily have him do more tricks. Of course, Nero is a big loss, but I’m sure Smoky could make good.”

“I think so, too!” cried Bert. “Maybe this horse will be another Nero. Do you mind if I tell Mr. Robin?”

“Not a bit. Maybe he’ll pay attention to you where he wouldn’t to me. Go ahead.”

When Bert came riding up a little later with a herder, and on the back of a fine horse, Flossie and Freddie were much surprised. The older boy leaped off as he saw Mr. Robin and shouted:

CHAPTER XI
FLOSSIE’S BABY

Flossie and Freddie were so excited about Bert riding on a ranch horse that they paid little attention to what he said about having found another Nero.

“May I have a ride on him?” Freddie wanted to know. Gone, for the time, were all his desires to be a fireman or a sailor. Now he wanted to be a cowboy and ride a pony.

“Why, Bert!” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey, as she came around a corner of the rambling ranch house, “where have you been, and what have you been doing?” She saw that his clothes were rather dirty.

“That’s what he did, Mr. Robin,” answered the herder. “I was over by the pony corral and I saw this boy running away from Sampson, who had got out and was on a rampage again. So I had to rope him and now he’s tied up. I’ll have some of the boys help me pen him up again.”

“Yes, do, and make a good job of it. That ram is getting to be a nuisance,” said the ranch owner to Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey. “If he wasn’t such a valuable animal I’d do away with him. I hope you didn’t get hurt, Bert.”

“Not a bit. He did knock me over and I turned a somersault but the ground was soft. And then Sampson turned a somersault himself.” Bert laughed as did Flossie and Freddie. Freddie said he wished he could have seen Bert turn a somersault.

“I’d rather see the ram do it,” said Flossie. “Please, will you make him do it again?” she asked the herder.

“I’ll see about it, little girl,” Slim answered. “So these are the Bobbsey twins, are they?” he asked, for Nan now appeared with Mary.

“Yes, these are the visitors,” said Mr. Robin. “This is my foreman, Slim Jim Ranson,” he added, introducing Bert’s rescuer. “But what’s this you said, Bert, about having found Nero?”

“I didn’t say I’d found Nero, Mr. Robin,” Bert answered. “But here is a trick horse. Maybe if you train him he’ll be as good as Nero. I’ll help you,” he offered eagerly.

“Oh,” said Mr. Robin with a laugh, “I see Slim has been telling you some stories about his favorite animal, Smoky. It’s an old story with me. Jim always made big claims for his horse.”

“But they’re true claims, Mr. Robin,” insisted the herder. “I don’t say Smoky will be as good as Nero, but since you’ve lost him why not try this pony? He’s almost as good looking as the other horse. Too bad you had to lose him.”

“I didn’t lose Nero, Slim. He was stolen, and I think I know the man who did it. Some day I’ll find both him and the horse. I don’t want to discourage you, Bert,” he went on, “but I don’t believe Smoky can ever be made into a trick horse such as Nero was.”

“But he does tricks now, Mr. Robin. Mr. Ranson made him do some, and maybe if I help you train him he can do more, and then he can be in the plays and in the movies.”

“Well, Bert, that’s kind of you. As I don’t want to set up my opinion above yours and Slim’s, I’m willing to give the matter a trial. We’ll start training Smoky and you shall help me.”

“Speaking as you did about the movies reminds me that I must get busy and prepare for the director and the camera men. They’ll be over here soon. Though what sort of pictures they can get now that Nero, on whom I counted, is gone, I don’t know.” Mr. Robin spoke sadly.

“Well, maybe so. Put him in the barn, Slim,” he added. “If he’s going to be trained it will be easier if he is kept away from the other ponies in the corral. And make sure Sampson is secured.”

“Oh, tomorrow, I guess,” answered Mr. Robin. “I’ll give him some tests then.”

Bert was delighted to have some special task in view, now that he was on the sheep ranch where the Bobbsey family was to remain several weeks. It was a fine place for a sort of second vacation and both Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey were much interested in the new kind of life. They felt it would also do the children good. The climate of Arizona was excellent.

Flossie and Freddie found plenty of safe places where they could play. Nan had as a friend Mr. Robin’s sister, so the days promised to pass quickly.

“It surely will,” agreed Mary. “We don’t have things like that out here very often. I do hope your brother can help train a horse to take Nero’s place.”

“Bert is very ambitious,” Nan laughed. “But I don’t believe he really knows much about training horses.”

This was true, as Bert soon found out the next day. With Slim Ranson and Mr. Robin the work was begun of trying to teach Smoky some tricks. As the foreman had said, the horse could do a few simple ones, but when it came to anything complicated, he could not come up to Nero.

However, Mr. Robin was patient and kind with the animal. Slim was no less so, but he was more rough and ready, due to the life he had led. As for Bert, he did what the men told him, which was mainly to stay on Smoky’s back and help direct him in the tricks.

One stunt Nero had been in the habit of doing was to approach a small throne in the religious drama and kneel before a figure seated upon it. Nero would walk solemnly up to the throne. Then, at a little distance, he would get down on his “knees,” and bend his front legs back under him so that it looked as if he were paying homage to the figure before which he was kneeling.

“We’ll try to teach Smoky that,” Mr. Robin decided. All three worked hard toward this end. Ropes were used at first to bind the horse’s forelegs to make him understand what was wanted of him. This training took place on soft turf so that when the horse stumbled and fell, which he did several times, he did not get hurt. Neither did Bert get injured by falling off Smoky’s back, which he did over and over. He was learning to be a very good rider.

Yet all the training seemed to be for nothing. Several days later, when it seemed that Smoky understood what was wanted of him and was given a try-out, he refused to bow. He just stood before the improvised throne on which Mr. Robin sat and began to paw with one hoof, indicating that he wanted some lumps of sugar.

“No sugar until you do the trick!” declared the ranch owner. “Try him again, Bert.”

That was the way it went, hour after hour, and day after day. Smoky did manage to learn a few more tricks than those Slim had taught him, but the harder and more important ones seemed too much for him. Bert was greatly disappointed. But Mr. Robin said:

“We won’t give up yet. It takes a long time to train animals, and the movie men won’t be here for another week or two.”

While Bert was hard at work trying to train the horse, Nan and Mary found much to interest them about the ranch. Nan had Mary try on the Bo-Peep costume.

“It’s the first time I have seen what it really looks like,” Nan said. “I can’t tell how it looks when I’m wearing it myself. It really is pretty, isn’t it, Mary?”

“It’s even prettier than when I let Grace Lavine wear it,” said Nan. “In a way, it’s a good thing Freddie doused her.”

“Your little twins are so cute!” laughed Mary. “I wonder where they are now.”

“We’d better go look,” suggested Nan. “I haven’t heard them about for some time. When Flossie and Freddie are quiet it is usually a sign that they have got into mischief.”

It did not take the two girls long to find Freddie. He and Bert were going with Slim toward a distant pasture to watch a flock of sheep being driven to new feeding grounds. Sheep browse the grass down very close to the roots, unlike cattle, so it is necessary to move them off a cropped pasture before the herbage is completely destroyed.

“Now we must find Flossie,” said Nan. “It’s strange she isn’t with Freddie. The two are seldom separated.”

She and Mary wandered among the various ranch buildings. It was some time before they came upon the little girl in the shade of an old store-house near a corral where sick and feeble sheep were sometimes kept until they grew well and strong again.

Coming quietly and unexpectedly upon Flossie, Nan and Mary saw her rocking an old-fashioned cradle in a most motherly manner, and softly singing a song, the refrain of which was “Hush, my little baby.”

Startled, Flossie looked at her sister. Then, holding her finger over her lips to warn them to be silent, Flossie whispered:

Flossie stood up to give the two girls a full view of the cradle. To their surprise, they saw what appeared to be a real infant in a long dress and lace cap, lying amid pillows and coverings.

“Oh, my goodness!” gasped Mary. “I didn’t know there was a baby around the ranch. Flossie must have gone to one of the rancher’s houses and taken one. There’ll be trouble over this!”

CHAPTER XII
FREDDIE’S QUEER HORSE

Nan Bobbsey told herself that she might have known Flossie would be in trouble when she was quiet so long, and hurried toward her little sister and the cradle.

“Tell us what house you took it from,” urged Mary. “The poor mother may be worried. She will think her baby has been kidnapped!”

Flossie began to laugh. Then suddenly there came from the cradle a sound which told Nan and Mary that they need have no fears, for Flossie’s “baby” uttered a loud, long “Baa-a-a-a-a-a-a!”

“No, it’s a baby lamb!” shouted Flossie, laughing harder than before. “It’s a baby lamb!”

So it was. Flossie, while roaming about the old store-house had found the cradle and had dragged it out of doors. Then, seeing a baby lamb among the animals in the small corral near by, she had opened the gate, gone in and taken out the cute little animal. It was so small and gentle that it just cuddled in Flossie’s arms as a real baby might have done.

“Then,” said Flossie telling her story, “I got some of the clothes that belong to my biggest doll and dressed the baby lamb up in them.”

“Didn’t it try to get away?” asked Mary, laughing with Nan over Flossie’s adventure.

“Oh, he kicked a little,” Flossie admitted. “But I held him and got the things on him. I was going to get a nursing bottle but I couldn’t find one, so I thought I’d sing the lamb to sleep.”

“We do have nursing bottles for baby lambs, strange as it may seem,” said Mary to Nan. “Often the mother sheep dies before her baby lamb is old enough to drink its mother’s milk. Then my brother or some of the men bring the baby lamb into the house, put it in a warm place; and feed it milk out of a real baby’s bottle with a rubber nipple.”

“Oh, how funny!” exclaimed Nan. “And does the baby lamb take the milk from the bottle?”

“Always,” Mary said. “Sometimes there may be a little trouble before it gets used to the bottle, but in the end it feeds that way very well. I’ve helped to bring up many a cosset.”

“What’s a cosset?” asked Nan, who wanted to learn all she could about sheep ranching. Nan always liked to learn things.

“A cosset,” Mary explained, “is a motherless lamb brought up ‘by hand,’ as we call it. It should really be called bringing a cosset up by the bottle.”

“I’ll get the bottle now,” Flossie said, starting away from the cradle in which the dressed lamb was now uttering loud “Baa-a-a-a-a-s.”

“It is old enough to eat grass now,” Mary said. “Better put it back in the corral, Flossie.”

They were saved the trouble of doing this, however. Out of the cradle leaped the baby sheep. It bleated loudly again, then started on a run toward the gate, scattering the doll clothes Flossie had wrapped around it.

“You played with it long enough,” decided Nan. “The poor thing doesn’t like to be dressed in doll clothes.”

Indeed, the lamb seemed very glad to get away. It stood bleating at the corral gate where, behind the fence, other lambs and some grown ewes were confined.

“No, you had better come with us,” suggested Nan. “We’ll take you to see how the herders’ dogs take care of the sheep out on the grazing grounds.”

“Oh, that’ll be fine,” Flossie answered. “Goodbye, baby lamb!” she called, as Mary let the little animal back into the corral.

“Does she often do things like that?” Mary asked of Nan in a low voice as the two girls walked away with Flossie.

“Yes, and even funnier things,” Nan replied. “You never can tell what she and Freddie will do. I hope Freddie isn’t in any mischief.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t call what Flossie did just now mischief,” spoke Mary. “It didn’t hurt the lamb any and it made the little girl happy. I’ll ask some of the men if Freddie and Bert and Slim have come back from watching the sheep-dogs work.”

One of the herders said he had not seen the boys and Slim return. As Mary knew the way to the distant grazing ground, she and Nan took Flossie in this direction, first, however, telling Mrs. Bobbsey where they were going.

This particular spot was in a hollow among some little hills, and as Mary and her guests reached the top of one rise they could look down and see a big flock of sheep. There were two herders in charge, and each one had a dog. On one edge of the grassy land the girls saw Bert, Freddie and Slim watching.

It was interesting to note the intelligent dogs run after, and turn back into the main flock, any sheep that might stray away. The herders would call to their dogs, point to the straying sheep, and in an instant the little animals would race toward them, barking loudly, and urging them back into the main flock.

“Sheep are rather easy to look after,” Mary said. “They don’t get as wild as cattle.”

“Yes, he is an exception,” Mary admitted. “But he is now safely penned in. He won’t get out again.”

“What makes the sheep eat so fast?” asked Flossie. Indeed, the rams, ewes and lambs seemed in a great hurry.

“I don’t know why that is,” Mary said, “but sheep always seem to nibble the grass as if they were afraid some other animal was coming to take it away from them.”

“My mother doesn’t let me eat fast,” Flossie said. “It gives you inspeckia, she says.”

“Your mother is right,” laughed Mary. “But our sheep never seem to get dyspepsia, though they always eat fast.”

The three circled the flock of sheep toward the place where Bert and Freddie stood with the foreman. Suddenly the younger Bobbsey boy disappeared behind a bush, but a few seconds later came out in a most peculiar way. He was astride a big sheep, sitting on its back and holding to what seemed to be reins about the animal’s nose.

“Look at my horse! Look at my horse!” shouted Freddie, as he rode the trotting sheep toward his sisters and Mary.

CHAPTER XIII
SOME SHOTS AT NAN

“No, I won’t!” he answered, laughing. “This is a gentle sheep and he likes me and I like him. But I call him my horse.”

“What a funny horse!” laughed Flossie. “It’s almost as funny as my baby lamb!”

“Freddie, do be careful!” begged Nan. “Oh, I’m so worried!” she said to Mary.

“No need to be,” spoke the other girl. “I don’t believe Slim would have let Freddie get on the sheep’s back if there were any danger. I think Slim must have rigged up the reins for Freddie.”

“Well, then, maybe it’s all right,” said Nan. “He really rides well for such a little boy, doesn’t he?”

Freddie guided his queer “horse” closer to his sisters and Mary, while Bert and the ranch foreman stood a little distance away, laughing.

“Whoa!” suddenly called Freddie, pulling on the reins around the sheep’s nose, for there was no bit in its mouth as is the case with horses. “Whoa there, Bob!”

To the surprise of Nan the sheep stopped and Freddie sat easily on its back, smiling and laughing.

“That’s the name I gave him,” said Freddie. “I’m a Bobbsey and my sheep-horse is Bob. It’s a good name!”

“It’s like this,” the foreman explained as he and Bert walked up to the girls and Freddie, “your little brother, Miss Nan, wanted a horse to train as Bert and I are training Smoky. But I figured that a horse would be too big for a little boy. I knew we had some gentle sheep on the ranch so I picked out a safe one and rigged up a sort of harness so Freddie could guide him. Old Bleater, as we called her, because of the way she used to bleat when she was a lamb, is very gentle and strong. I told Freddie he could use her as his horse, and he named her Bob.”

“And I’m going to teach Bob some tricks,” declared Freddie. “She can do some now.”

“She goes when I say ‘giddap,’ ” spoke Freddie, “and stops when I tell her to ‘whoa.’ And that’s two tricks.”

“Very good ones,” agreed Bert. “I wish Smoky would learn as easily as this sheep-horse of Freddie’s does.”

“Well, this sheep has had some training,” explained Slim. “We had some Mexican Indian herders here last year. One of ’em had a boy about Freddie’s age and the boy trained the animal so that she would allow herself to be ridden, just like a horse. I thought maybe Bleater might have forgotten, but when I caught her and fixed her up for Freddie, she let him get on her back and she’s behaved just fine.”

“I don’t see why not,” spoke the good-natured foreman. “If you will let her, Miss Nan,” he went on, “I’ll walk along beside her and hold her fast. We haven’t any saddle for Bob, as Freddie has named her, but the wool on her back is so soft and thick it is just as good. So if you don’t mind, I’ll give Flossie a ride.”

Freddie got down off his sheep-horse, which stood still and steady, and Slim lifted Flossie onto her back, much to the delight of the little girl. Slim walked on one side with his arm around her and Flossie held the reins as Freddie had done.

“It’s just like the time I rode the pony at the seashore!” laughed Flossie.

So she had a little ride around the grazing ground, where the big flock of sheep kept on eating rapidly. None of them stopped to see what was going on. One of the herders came over to find out what it was all about. His big black dog, whom he called Night, seemed greatly surprised to see a little girl on a sheep’s back.

“It’s probably the first time Night ever saw anything like this,” said Slim, “for he and this herder weren’t here when the Indian boy trained Bleater to be ridden.”

Flossie did not want to get off when Freddie thought she should, so it took all of Nan’s kind persuasion to induce the little girl to alight and let Freddie again get astride his “horse.” Finally Flossie did so after her twin brother had promised to let her ride again later in the day.

Nan and Flossie were very much interested, as were also Bert and Freddie, as to how the Mexican herders and their dogs looked after the sheep. There were many large flocks of them scattered about different parts of Mr. Robin’s ranch, each of which was in charge of herders and dogs.

“Sometimes, though thieves don’t try to ‘rustle’ sheep as often as they do cattle, so there isn’t that danger. Sheep can’t be driven as fast as cattle can, and several trained dogs are needed to urge them along. Cattle thieves don’t go in for trained dogs, so the sheep here are fairly safe from thieves,” he answered.

“Coyotes,” answered the foreman. “They are a sort of wolf-dog, but with none of a dog’s good qualities. A coyote wouldn’t bother an old ram like Sampson, but it would attack a small sheep and the lambs, so we have to be on our guard. The dogs take pretty good care of the sheep, though, even when the herders need a little time off for sleep.”

“I do,” went on Nan. “I think a dandy movie can be made from life on a sheep ranch. Your brother knows so much about it.”

“Oh, but he will miss Nero,” said Mary, as she and Nan walked on ahead, while Flossie and Freddie followed with Bert and the foreman. “Harvey was depending very much on Nero in the picture, and now that his horse is gone I don’t know what he will do.”

“Do you think Bert and Slim can train that other horse so it will be any good?” asked Nan.

“Not as good as Nero was. My brother doesn’t want to tell the movie director and his camera men, who will soon be here, that Nero is gone. They might not make even the test pictures if he did. Harvey doesn’t intend to deceive them, but he hopes when the time comes to take the real shots for the movies he will either have found Nero or else have Smoky trained well enough. So we are not supposed to say anything just yet about Nero being gone.”

“I won’t mention it,” agreed Nan. “I’ll tell Bert, Flossie and Freddie to be quiet.”

Pleasant were the days spent on the ranch. The weather was the most perfect imaginable. Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey said they had never spent such a delightful time anywhere. They took long rides on horseback together over the plains, leaving the children in care of a motherly housekeeper who supervised the place for Mr. Robin and his sister.

As for the twins, they all agreed that they had never before been in such a wonderful place. Bert was busy helping Slim train the new horse, though they were both disappointed at the results. Yet Smoky showed some improvement and learned some new tricks.

Nan spent much time with Mary, learning how to feed new-born lambs on a bottle when the ewes had died. The little cossets were very cute and lovable.

Flossie and Freddie had wonderful fun. Flossie learned to ride Freddie’s sheep-horse and insisted that a little later she was going to have an animal all her own.

Mr. Robin spent his days attending to matters on his ranch, seeing to it that at certain times the wool was sheared from his thousands of sheep, that those destined for the market were sent away, and that new herds were given good pasturage. Slim, his foreman, helped in this work as did the various Indian and Mexican herders and their dogs.

Besides all this, the ranch owner did some painting. He had several canvases only partly finished which he hoped to complete before the Bobbseys left to go home. Several of the pictures, which were not yet ready, were those of sheep and horses in various settings. There was one of a herder and his dog standing near a group of sheep in the sunset where some wonderful color effects were shown. The picture was complete save for the figure of the herder.

“Joe Vega posed for this,” Mr. Robin said, exhibiting his work of art. “But he failed me, and now I don’t know how I can finish the picture unless I get someone else to pose in Joe’s stead.”

“Well, they can look the part and they have the costumes, but they are not accustomed to standing still long enough to serve as models. Perhaps I may call on you one of these days, Bert.”

One morning the artist came to the Bobbsey family after a hard day’s work spent in shipping away some of the sheep.

“The movie director. As I told you, my ranch, my sheep and some horses as well as the dogs and herders and myself, are to be part of a moving picture. Certain scenes will be ‘shot’ here, which will be inserted with other scenes taken elsewhere so as to make a complete picture. The director is to bring camera men with him as well as some actors and actresses.

“The ranch will form the background for this part of the picture. This is the place where Nero was to have done his part. I’d rather nothing be said for a few days about his loss. Meanwhile, I may get Nero back; or else the horse that Bert is helping me to train may fit in all right. The director will be here with his men and his cameras this afternoon.”

Shortly after lunch the movie director arrived, his mechanics carrying the apparatus. His name was Steven Landorp, and he was, as he himself said, “a hustler and a bustler.”

He had no sooner arrived and ordered the unloading of his cameras, sound machinery, and the disposition of his small company of actors and actresses, than he called to Mr. Robin:

“Now, then, let’s try a few sample shots! Quick, now! I haven’t much time. I want to shoot you and your trick horse.”

This is not as bad as it sounds. When a movie director talks of “shooting,” he just means to take pictures.

“We’ll get the horse later,” said Mr. Robin. “Time enough for that. I want to see how my ranch background shapes up with a lot of sheep in the foreground—sheep, herders, and dogs.”

“Oh, all right. That’ll do, as long as I keep my camera men busy,” said Mr. Landorp. “Come on now, boys, get the machines ready. We won’t need any lights—the light here is perfect. Where do you want us to take the shots, Mr. Robin?”

As he was leading the way to the place where he had told some of his herders and dogs to assemble in readiness for the picture-taking, Nan came out on the porch. She was wearing the Bo-Peep costume, for Mary had suggested certain small changes in it, and had helped her to make them. She wanted her mother to see the dress.

Mr. Landorp was among the first to catch sight of the pretty picture Nan made in the shepherdess costume. He came to a sudden stop and called to one of the camera men with his machine.

“Jack, shoot this girl! Give me about a hundred feet of her in different poses. Miss—I don’t know your name, but I will—please come down here where the light is better and be shot! Quick, please!”

CHAPTER XIV
BERT POSES

Nan, who was not aware that the movie director and his men had arrived, was for a moment at a loss to understand the rather sharp words of Mr. Landorp. Of course, she knew that the word “shoot” had a different meaning when used in connection with a camera, for she had heard Mr. Robin explain this.

Flossie and Freddie, who were standing near by when the director spoke to Nan, did not understand the other meaning.

“You’re not going to shoot my sister!” he cried. “If you do, I’ll ride at you on my horse.”

“Oh, do you ride a horse?” asked the director. “If you do, perhaps I’ll shoot you, too!”

This was almost too much for Freddie. But Flossie, who had also been somewhat alarmed at the talk to Nan, had a new idea now.

“I ride Freddie’s horse, too!” she called out. “His horse is a sheep.”

“That’s the first time I ever heard of a horse being a sheep!” laughed the director. “I should like to see that, my boy. But what about you, Miss? May I shoot you in the pretty costume?” he asked. “It is very appropriate for a sheep ranch, even though I never have heard of a Bo-Peep being on one. I may be able to work you into the picture for a little footage if the cutting room doesn’t spoil it for me. Will you come down and be shot?”

By this time Mrs. Bobbsey had appeared and explained to Flossie and Freddie that there was no danger to Nan, so the small twins were quite ready to see her “shot.”

“We won’t give her name if you don’t want it used,” said the director. “I assure you it will be a very effective scene. I have never seen a character more in keeping. It’s really perfect,” he said. “Come on, boys. Both of you had better shoot her from different angles,” he said to the camera men. “We’ll use the best shots. This way, please. Let’s see, now, your name is——” He paused.

“Oh, yes. Well, I’m glad to meet you. Now, let’s see you walk across this open space where there’s a good light. Smile a bit—then look worried. You’ve lost your sheep, you know, and you’re worried. Come on, now. Action! Camera!”

Poor Nan was a bit bewildered, but one of the actresses in the movie company coached her a little, telling her just what to do. In a few minutes she was taking her first part as a real moving picture character.

“Fine! That’s fine!” called Mr. Landorp. “But you must look a little more worried. It’s a serious matter to lose your sheep, you know.”

Nan assumed a slightly more worried look, and really did quite well. Her father and mother, together with Mr. Robin considered her very clever. As for Bert, Nan and Flossie, they thought their sister was very wonderful indeed.

“That’s good—very good!” said Mr. Landorp, when he called to the camera men to “cut,” which means to stop making pictures. “Of course, we didn’t have any sound on this. We’ll have that later. I want to see how these shots turn out. Ship this film back to headquarters to be developed and printed,” he told one of his men. “And telephone them that I want some prints back as soon as I can get them. I’ll be able to show you in a few days how you look, Miss Nan. I have a small projection machine here with me. We’ll throw the picture on the screen.”

“Hello! Another pretty girl!” exclaimed Mr. Landorp, as he caught sight of Mr. Robin’s sister. The director was nothing if not outspoken. “We may be able to use you, too,” he said. “Come on down here and be shot. You might do for a rancher’s young wife living all alone on the plains while her husband is away. The Indians try to drive off the sheep and you stop them—well, we’ll go into that later. Won’t you come out here and be shot?”

By this time Flossie and Freddie, planning it between themselves, had left the scene and returned with Bob, the sheep that was a horse. Freddie came riding up on the back of his woolly pet. The director was so impressed by the humorous effect that he insisted upon taking some more shots. He also snapped Flossie in this way, and said both she and her brother might be used later in the real movie with the sheep ranch as a background.

“Now,” said the director to Mr. Robin, “I want to take some test shots about your ranch. Later we’ll make the main ones, with Nero in them.”

Mr. Robin did not say so aloud, but he did hope that Nero would be restored to him by that time. All his efforts to find the lost or stolen animal had, thus far, been fruitless. The trained trick horse on which so much depended for the movies seemed to have completely vanished.

Mr. Robin was worried, for he had signed a contract to allow Nero to appear in various movie scenes. If the animal was not on hand to be photographed, the whole picture might be spoiled, and the rancher would lose a great deal of money.

The rest of the day was spent in taking sample shots, which were rushed away by auto to the studio where the films could be developed and prints made. The pictures taken by moving picture cameras are not the ones shown on the screen. The camera pictures are “negatives,” and the films reeled off in the projection machines and thrown upon the screen by powerful lights are called “positives.”

Two of the ranch buildings were set aside for the use of the moving picture people. That night after supper, Bert and Nan, with Mary, Mr. Robin, and Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey went there to talk with the newcomers.

“This is going to be a swell movie!” the director said. “It’s the first time I ever shot a sheep ranch. The sheep show up fine, being mostly white, and the black dogs make an excellent contrast, all in all a very artistic combination.”

“The combination isn’t done from an artistic standpoint,” explained Mr. Robin. “I don’t know why it is, but sheep seem more afraid of black dogs than those of other colors, and will mind them better. Most herders who have their own dogs always try to get black ones.”

“That’s news to me,” said the director. “Well, as I said before, I’ll make a fine movie here, especially when that trick horse Nero comes in.”

While the camera men and Mr. Landorp were busy about the ranch on “location work,” Mr. Robin took out his unfinished painting of the herder, his dog, and some sheep, and said he was going to try to finish it before the actual filming began.

“Yes, I shall need a figure to take the part of that rascal,” her brother agreed. “But I think I have him.”

“You mean you are going to use Joe again—after the way he tricked you, Harvey?”

“Not Joe, but a substitute!” said the artist. “I’m going to use him.” He pointed to Bert Bobbsey.

“Yes,” the rancher replied with a smile. “You aren’t quite as big as Vega, though he was rather short, as are most Mexicans. But you have his general build, and with his costume on you’ll do very well.”

“I have several shepherd costumes that will do very nicely,” the artist said. “One of them is exactly like that which Joe wore in that picture. It will just about fit you. If it doesn’t, it can be altered. Do you mind posing for me?”

“I’ll be glad to. If I can’t train Smoky for you, at least I can pose for you.”

“By the way, how are you and Slim coming on with training Smoky to take Nero’s place?”

“Don’t let it worry you. Sometimes a horse holds back, and at the last moment, when you’ve about given up, he will do the very tricks you think he’ll never care to perform. Now, try on the Vega costume and see how you look in it. Come into the studio.”

Mr. Robin led the way into a room with several large windows opening to the north, which always makes the best light for painters. Bert felt very proud as he thought of posing for the artist.

CHAPTER XV
PANCHO SEEKS REVENGE

Rummaging about in a closet, Mr. Robin brought out several garments—some of wool, some of leather—garments usually worn by a shepherd. The clothes were rough, for the herder must be out in all kinds of weather and cannot run for shelter when it rains. There was a broad-brimmed hat, for the sun in Arizona is hot. The jacket was decorated with many buttons.

“It certainly is a gay outfit,” Bert said, as Mr. Robin told him to try it on. “Nickel-plated buttons, too.”

“No, they are of real silver,” said the artist. “The Mexicans are very partial to silver, because in the old days so much of it was found in their country. Do you think it will fit?”

“It seems to,” Bert said, taking off his outer clothes and donning those of a sheepherder. “Did Joe Vega ever wear this one?”

“Not this particular outfit, but one similar to it. Why, it’s a good fit!”

Indeed it was, for Joe Vega was very small for a man, while Bert Bobbsey was a tall boy for his age. When Bert had put on the costume, Mr. Robin made a few changes and told Bert just how to tilt his hat at a certain angle.

“You are supposed to be a rather desperate character for a sheepherder,” the artist said with a smile. “A sort of bandit, you know, even if you do have to care for sheep. That is the character I had in mind when I got the idea for the picture. Joe Vega fitted it perfectly, for he is a villain, I know. Of course, you can’t be that, Bert. But, as in moving pictures, many a good man has to act the part of a bad one, so I ask that you try to imagine you are planning some desperate deed while watching your sheep.”

“Like the time when we played pirate when Nan had the measles?” the boy suggested.

“That’s it exactly! As you can see,” went on the artist, removing a sheet from a canvas on an easel, “the picture is partly finished. You will not need to pose very long. Two or three days will enable me to finish it.”

Bert saw what he thought would be a very fine painting when completed. The scene was out of doors near a clump of bushes and a little stream of water. In the distance were some sheep and a black sheep dog which, Bert felt sure, was the animal called Night. The chief figure in the painting was that of the herder, and it bore some resemblance to Joe Vega. The man stood leaning on a straight, lance-like staff. There was a moody, ugly look on his face. The figure was only sketched in.

“What I need you for,” Mr. Robin explained to Bert, “is to pose for the figure in the herder’s clothes you have on. My idea, you see, is to show the contrast between the peaceful sheep and the bad herder.”

“So I am. I intended to have Nero pose for the horse, but I shall have to wait until I get him back.”

“Well, I’ll think about it if I don’t get Nero back. But I still have hopes.”

“I suspect him,” said the rancher, “but I have no proof. I think Vega would take Nero if he had the chance. That herder has no love for me since the time I discharged him for his bad conduct. Of course, some other man may have sneaked up while Nero was alone and ridden away with him. But let’s go out and see how well you pose.”

Mr. Robin pointed to the scenery of the picture—the brook, the bushes and grass. Then he said:

“I am going to pose you on the very spot where I started this painting. It isn’t far from here. It is an outdoor scene, as you will notice. I want everything to be in keeping with it.”

He called one of his men to load the picture carefully into a small car. Then the easel was folded up and stowed in with it.

“It’s a little too far to walk to the place,” Mr. Robin said, “so we’ll ride out there, Bert.”

Bert’s sisters, Freddie, and Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey came out to see the new “herder,” and all agreed that Bert took the part of Joe Vega perfectly.

“If the real Joe Vega should come along,” said Nan, “he would be surprised to see himself.”

Bert and the artist rode out to a distant part of the ranch. When they arrived at the scene where the picture had been begun, the canvas was set up on the easel. Mr. Robin indicated where and how Bert was to stand. Then he got out his tubes of paints, his brushes, and the palette, on which he began to mix and blend his colors.

“I have them pretty well worked in,” said the artist. “What is lacking now can be added later. I am eager to get the man’s figure right.”

“I suppose,” said Bert with a laugh, “that you have seen so many sheep you could almost paint them in your sleep.”

At first Bert did not pose just right to conform to the attitude of the figure already on the canvas. But Mr. Robin corrected the boy’s posture, told him just what expression to assume, and then Bert began to get the idea.

“That’s fine! That’s just right!” the artist exclaimed. “Now, hold that, and I’ll paint as fast as I can. Remember you must not move, no matter what happens, or you will be out of line. I’ll keep you in the position only about fifteen minutes. Then I’ll let you rest, and we can start over again.”

Bert thought at first it would be easy to remain motionless in one position for fifteen minutes. However, he soon found it was far from that, and if any of you try it you will find out the same thing that he did. The first five minutes were comparatively easy. But after that it was hard.

First Bert’s nose began to itch, but he did not dare to take his hand from the staff to rub the tickling place. Next he got a cramp in his left leg and wanted to move it, but did not dare. Then his right foot began to feel numb; it “went to sleep,” as Bert said afterward. But he was not allowed to shift it.

“Gosh!” laughed the boy, as he started to walk around. “It felt like fifteen hours.”

“It always does at first,” said the artist. “But the second fifteen will be much easier and each period after that will be less difficult. You did very well for an amateur.”

“Walk around,” advised Mr. Robin. “That will be the best way to relieve the strain upon your legs.”

“I think I shall,” Bert agreed. He left Mr. Robin mixing some new colors to reproduce a brilliant part of the costume, and walked toward the little stream which was to form a part of the painting.

“It is if you go up a little way where there’s a spring,” was the answer. “It’s pure and cold.”

Wandering along the brook, Bert could look off across the hills and see several herd of sheep with the man and dogs guarding them. It was just such a scene, only on a smaller scale, as he was being pictured in. Bert felt that this ranch was one of the finest places he had ever visited.

“And when I get Smoky trained,” he said to himself, “I’ll begin to feel as if I’ve really done something.”

Bert located the spring. He looked for some sort of dipper, or cup. Finding none, he decided to do as he and his boy chums had often done when thirsty on a hike. He stretched out on his stomach and began to suck up the water as a horse might do.

While in this prone position danger began to stalk in Bert Bobbsey’s direction. A man, apparently a Mexican, sneaked out of the bushes and cautiously approached the boy. In his hand the man held a heavy club. He came up behind Bert as stealthily as a cat, his face white with anger. The noise the boy was making sucking up the water prevented him from hearing the oncoming footsteps.

CHAPTER XVI
FREDDIE’S WILD RIDE

Bert Bobbsey was very thirsty. In the excitement of posing for the picture he had forgotten to drink any water on leaving the ranch house in the morning. The strained position he had been forced to assume made his mouth and tongue parched. Now he was enjoying a long drink at the spring, and was unaware that the Mexican with the club was stealing upon him.

“That’s good water!” mused the boy, as he raised his head for a moment but did not get up. “I think I’ll have a little more.”

Had he not been so intent on satisfying his thirst he might have heard the stealthy footsteps of the Mexican. But even if he had listened carefully, Bert would have had difficulty in catching any sound that Pancho Mendez made, for the Mexican was skillful in being able to approach silently along any trail he might be on.

“Surely here is where Pancho Mendez gets his revenge. You cheated me once, but you shall not do so again. Ah, that is right. Take another drink. When you are drinking you cannot hear me.”

Bert bent down for more of the cooling water. Taking advantage of this, the Mexican drew still nearer the boy. He was within a few feet of him and had raised up the club to hit Bert in the back when, stepping on a round stone which rolled with him, Pancho Mendez made enough noise to alarm Bert.

“Is that you, Mr. Robin?” the lad asked, starting to rise. “I’ll be right back. I guess I stayed away longer than I should have.”

Jumping to his feet, Bert turned around just in time to dodge a blow which the Mexican aimed at him. Surprised at seeing an angry stranger—a man who seemed to be a sheepherder instead of the artist whom he supposed to be near him—Bert cried:

“Ha, Joe Vega, you know why I try to hit you!” shouted the man, raising his club again. “You did wrong to me! To Pancho Mendez! You took my money! Now I will beat you with my club until you pay me back! At last I have catch you, Joe Vega!”

Up to this point the man had spoken English, though with a Spanish accent. Now he lapsed into his own language and uttered several words, the meaning of which Bert could only guess. That the fellow was angry was certain. Bert also understood that in his costume he had been mistaken for the rascally sheepherder who was suspected of having stolen Nero. He felt that he must act quickly to prevent being harmed, for Pancho was again trying to hit him with the club.

“Ha! Tell me not that!” cried Pancho in English. “I know Joe Vega when I see heem. And you are heem! Give me back my money or I will beat you!”

“I tell you I am not Vega!” cried Bert. “I may look like him, but it’s only because I dressed up like him so Mr. Robin could paint a picture he had started. Come, I’ll show it to you.”

“Ah, you cannot fool me, Joe Vega!” yelled Pancho. “Too much you did to me so I cannot forget. I tell you that you are heem—that bad man!”

Mr. Robin had stained Bert’s face a dark brown to make him look more like a real Mexican. In these garments the boy realized he looked very much like a sheepherder. He must do something to make Pancho aware of his mistake.

“Look!” suddenly exclaimed Bert. Quickly he took off the jacket he wore. He rolled up the sleeve on his right arm and showed the white flesh in contrast to the dark stain on his hands and face. Seeing the white flesh, Pancho paused, lowered his club, and muttered:

“What is thees? You are part dark and part light. Joe Vega was never like thees.”

“I tell you I am not Joe Vega!” Bert insisted, feeling easier now that the club was down. “I am posing in his place, though, so that Mr. Robin can finish his picture.”

Bert might have had a great deal of trouble in explaining. Just then, however, Mr. Robin, becoming rather anxious over the prolonged absence of the boy, came looking for him. Seeing the Mexican, and guessing what had happened, for he knew both Mendez and Vega, the artist called out:

“Ah, Señor Robin! I ask your pardon. I t’ink I make one grand meestake. I t’ink thees boy, whose face and hands are dark but whose body is white—I t’ink him to be that rascal Vega.”

“He isn’t, though he is dressed like him,” said Mr. Robin. “I can understand how you made the mistake. Listen to me!” Then in Spanish, which Pancho understood better than he did English, the artist told all about how Bert was posing for him.

“Ah, then I have very much to ask the young señor’s pardon,” said Pancho. “I am sorry for having so nearly beat him. But I will beat that Joe Vega if I can find heem.”

“I wish you could find him,” said Mr. Robin. “If you get on his trail, Pancho, let me know.”

“I will, Señor Robin. Long time have I look for Joe Vega. He cheat me out of much money. But I shall find him and hold to him fast until you can come and get him also.”

“Not a bad idea,” commented the artist. “And if you see my horse Nero, hold him fast also, Pancho.”

“I now have two things to do, Señor. One is to find that rascal, Joe Vega, and the other is to get back that so noble horse, Nero.”

“Perhaps,” said Mr. Robin with a look at Bert, “you may find both of them at the same time.”

“Ah, he is much the same, Señor. Again I ask your pardon, young Señor,” he said, bowing to Bert, who nodded in return. “Now I shall be off to look for that so wonderful horse and that so bad man, Joe Vega.”

He departed with a swaggering air. When he was out of sight Mr. Robin explained matters to Bert.

Both Vega and Mendez had worked as sheepherders for him. At first the two were friends, but they had quarreled, and Mendez accused Vega of taking some money from him. Vega grew so careless that Mr. Robin discharged him. Soon after that Mendez left the ranch, but on friendly terms.

“This is the first time I have seen Mendez since then,” Mr. Robin said. “I suppose he was on Vega’s trail.”

“That’s a compliment to the way I’m dressed up and disguised,” said Bert, laughing.

“I suppose it is,” agreed Mr. Robin. “Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll get back to the picture.”

Bert posed for two fifteen-minute periods, when the artist said that would be enough for the day. They returned to the ranch house in the automobile, taking the canvas with them.

“A few more poses, and I’ll have finished with you, Bert,” said Mr. Robin as they got back. “You did very well, indeed.”

Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey as well as Nan and Mary were surprised to hear what had happened out at the spring.

“But there is no further danger,” said Mr. Robin. “Mendez will know Bert if he sees him again, even if he has on a costume like Vega’s. Mendez is really a good man. I wish I could say as much for the other one.”

In the days that followed Bert posed once again for the picture. Meanwhile, Mr. Landorp and his men went about selecting locations for the shots of the ranch movie they were soon to take. The director was very particular indeed. Often, when his man had picked out what they considered to be a good location, he would refuse to use it and hunt for another.

The prints of the shots taken of Nan, Mary, and the younger twins arrived at the ranch. There was a night of jollity and fun when the pictures were shown in an improvised moving picture theatre. Some of the ranchers came in to see them. Flossie and Freddie screamed with laughter as they viewed themselves. When Mary saw her likeness, she said:

“Most people are surprised when they see themselves in pictures,” replied the director.

Then Nan in her Bo-Peep costume was exhibited. At once there could be heard murmurs of admiration. Not only did the dress photograph well, but Nan herself had some of the characteristics of a real little actress.

“The best juvenile pictures I ever shot!” declared the director in his usual emphatic way. “Mark my words, Miss Nan, you’ll be in real pictures yet!”

“I’m eager to see how your horse Nero will come out in the films, Mr. Robin,” the director said when the little show was over. “Don’t you think we had better take some test shots?”

“Yes, soon,” said the artist, hardly knowing what to say. He felt he could not much longer delay letting it be known that Nero was missing.

Bert came to his aid by saying, “What’s the matter with making some test shots of Smoky?”

“That’s a good idea,” said the director. “It is always well for any performer, human or animal, to have another ready to take his place in case of accident. We’ll shoot Smoky tomorrow.”

“I hope the horse that Slim and I are trying to train will do at least a few of his tricks,” said Bert to himself.

As the picture Mr. Robin was painting was to figure in some of the scenes about the ranch, it was decided to shoot the canvas and the artist at work on it, even in its unfinished state. Accordingly, it was set up on the easel near one of the buildings and a camera man was sent to make the moving pictures.

“Everybody else keep away! I don’t want anything in this picture except Mr. Robin and his painting,” said the director. “Get ready, now! Action! Camera!”

The artist began to paint, and the camera man started to turn the handle of his machine. The Bobbsey family, with members of the moving picture company, were off to one side, watching.

Suddenly, while in the midst of the pretty scene, wild shouting could be heard around the corner of the ranch building. The voice of Freddie Bobbsey was calling:

A moment later Freddie came around the corner astride his “sheep-horse,” which evidently was refusing to halt. Straight for Mr. Robin and the valuable picture rushed Bob, with Freddie on his back.

CHAPTER XVII
RESCUED FROM THE BRAMBLES

Mr. Landorp, always excitable, was doubly so now. He jumped up and down, shouting:

“Get back! Keep away! You’ll spoil the picture! Get that sheep, somebody! Stop that boy! Hey! Keep back! Cut! Cut! Don’t get this action in!”

Mr. Robin, looking over his shoulder and seeing the sheep and Freddie heading for his canvas, suddenly jumped up, dropped his brushes and palette and caught the picture from the easel. He then ran away with it to save it from being damaged. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey could not help laughing, though Mr. Bobbsey did manage to shout:

When it seemed as if the sheep-horse would crash into the easel, the animal spied a bit of rich, green grass. He stopped so suddenly that Freddie went flying over the animal’s head, and landed in the thick grass. The little boy was not hurt in the least.

“Well, I’m glad he didn’t ruin my work,” said Mr. Robin, as he came to a stop, holding the canvas high up so as not to smear any of the wet paint.

“He didn’t ruin your picture but he spoiled this scene of mine,” said Mr. Landorp. “I hope you cut that one,” he said to the camera man.

“No, boss, I didn’t,” was the answer. “I thought it would make good comedy relief. I got it all.”

“Say, I believe you’re right!” exclaimed the director in his usual changeable manner. “It will make a fine comedy shot. I’m glad you took it, Jackson. It’s great!”

After all, Freddie’s wild ride did not turn out so badly. Later, when the complete sheep-ranch drama was exhibited, this little scene made a big hit.

“But why did you do it, Freddie?” his father asked when the episode was over, and Mr. Robin was in front of his painting again.

“Oh, they wouldn’t let me get close up to see him paint,” said the little boy, “so I thought I’d take a ride. I got on Bob, but as soon as I did so he ran away and came toward Mr. Robin, and I couldn’t stop him.”

“Next time,” said his mother, “don’t try to do any sheep-riding when the camera men are making shots—unless they want to take your picture.”

Up to this time Mr. Robin had received no word about his missing horse Nero. The ranch hands whom he had sent out to try to locate the trick animal had returned with no news. Neither could Joe Vega be found. Pancho Mendez, who had started out to look for the rascal, came back to say that it seemed as if Vega had disappeared.

In order to keep from the director as long as possible the news that Nero was missing Mr. Robin decided that he would ask Mr. Landorp to let Bert and Slim put Smoky through some of his tricks before the camera.

“I’m sure he’ll do very well,” declared the foreman. “Bert seems to have a way with him about horses.”

“Well,” remarked the artist, “I hope Smoky will be satisfactory. I’m beginning to think we’ll never see Nero again.”

One morning, after the cameras had been loaded with fresh reels of film and the director was ready to go to work, it was decided to “shoot” Smoky. This, of course, meant to take pictures of him.

To the credit of Smoky let it be said that he was not the least bit afraid of a camera. He did not balk or show any fear when the whirring cranks were turned in front of him. Two machines were used so that if one film did not develop well, the other might.

The reason Smoky was not camera shy was because Bert and Slim for several days had had the animal stand before a make-believe camera and then pretend to shoot him. Slim fixed up a box to look like a camera, and attached to it a crank that made a clicking noise. Then Bert put the horse through his tricks while the foreman ground away at the handle.

At first Smoky had been a trifle startled. But when he found that the strange machine did not hurt him, and realized that every time he stood still or did his tricks he would get some lumps of sugar, he acted very well indeed. Now, since real cameras were to be used, Bert and Slim had provided themselves with lumps of sugar to reward the horse.

“All right—let’s go!” called Mr. Landorp, when Smoky was brought up ready to be filmed. “This is only a test,” he added, “but we’ll pretend that it’s an actual take and be just as careful as if it really were.”

To the surprise of Mr. Robin, the substitute horse did very well. He ran, trotted and galloped, then knelt down and pawed on the ground to show how many lumps of sugar he wanted. The big scene in the real picture was the one where Mr. Robin, as the rider of the animal, falls off, wounded. The horse gallops away and soon brings back help to his stricken master.

“Now that we have the cameras,” went on the director, “wouldn’t it be a good idea to give Nero a few shots?”

“No, not now. He isn’t here,” said Mr. Robin, who had not yet told of the missing horse.

These were indeed busy days at the ranch. The movie people went about making shots of certain locations, while the actors and actresses did their parts, Mr. Robin being filmed with them in certain scenes. Once Nan appeared in her Bo-Peep costume, while Mary took the part of a rancher’s wife. Mr. Robin acted as her husband. In another scene all the Bobbseys—father, mother and the four twins—were used.

There were days when no pictures were taken. Then the Bobbsey twins had good times together going about the ranch and watching the work being done there. One morning Mr. Robin took them to a distant feeding ground where there was a large herd of sheep in charge of several Mexicans and their intelligent dogs. It was near a little village where some Mexican families lived.

“I’ll show you how we give our sheep a bath to keep them healthy,” he laughed.

The children watched closely as the animals were driven down into long troughs filled with water in which a chemical called “sheep-dip” had been poured. This cleaned the wool and also killed the various ticks and other insects that get into the heavy fleece. There were a lot of ba-a ba-as mixed with the commands of the men.

“I don’t like the smell of lamb bath salts,” said Flossie, and everyone laughed.

Another day the Bobbseys watched the shearing of some sheep. The animals were sent into a pen and were caught, one at a time, by the Mexican men. In a short time the heavy coat of wool was cut off each animal.

This did not in the least hurt the sheep; really, not any more than it hurts you to have your hair cut. In fact, the clippers are like giant barber scissors. They are attached to a machine with a handle turned by one worker. This makes the clippers move very fast.

A Mexican would grab a sheep, place it on its side, and his keen shears would clip off all the wool there was in one heavy piece of fleece. This would take him only a few minutes. Then the animal would be turned over and the wool cut off its other side. As soon as each sheep was sheared it was allowed to go, and would run out, bleating, to join the others who had been shorn.

“But they won’t catch cold,” said Freddie. “It’s too hot. I should think they’d be glad they have had their hair cut off.”

In one part of an Indian village some little distance away there lived an old Indian woman. When Mr. Robin took the children to her hut she showed them how, in the old days, her people washed, dried and carded wool. Even though a sheep is “dipped,” there is much dirt as well as pieces of briars, bushes and thorns in the fleece when the animal is shorn. So, before it can be spun into yarn for weaving, the wool must be cleaned.

The Indian woman washed some wool to show the children how it was done. Then, after it was dry she “carded” it. Using an old-fashioned instrument consisting of a piece of leather through which bent nails in the shape of hooks were driven, she pulled and teased the matted wool apart until all the dirt, seeds, briars, and brambles were pulled out and there remained only a soft, fluffy ball of pure sheep fleece. Later this bunch would be spun into long threads or a piece of yarn, when it would be dyed and woven into cloth.

The woman, who was half Indian and half Mexican, gave each of the Bobbsey twins a pair of bedroom slippers made from the soft sheepskin, with tufts of colored wool on them. Though they were a gift, Mr. Bobbsey later paid the woman for them, much to her delight.

As they came out of the cottage Flossie and Freddie, who were going on ahead, passed by a thick patch of brambles. Suddenly from the bushes there came a sad sound.

He went forward, Flossie following him. In a moment Freddie called to his sister:

“Oh, look! Here’s a mama sheep and her baby! They’re both caught in the brambles and can’t get out!”

CHAPTER XVIII
NOISES IN THE NIGHT

Freddie and Flossie stepped closer to the bramble bush, which had long thorns. How the mother sheep and her little lamb, which was only a few days old, had got into the heavily tangled thicket, the small Bobbsey twins could not guess.

This, however, was easier said than done, for when the two children tried to force their way into the bramble bush the thorns caught in their clothes as they had caught in the wool of the ewe and the lamb.

“We must get some sticks, or something, and break down the bush,” decided Freddie. “Here’s one for you, Flossie. I’ll get a bigger one,” he added, handing his sister a little stick, and reaching for a larger one. The two began beating down the branches.

Naturally this alarmed the sheep and lamb, so that they bleated loudly and plunged about, trying to get out. But this only caused them to become more entangled in the briars. Finally the shouts of Freddie and Flossie and the bleating of the ewe and her baby came to the ears of Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey, who had lingered near the Mexican woman’s hut with Bert and Nan.

“Run and see what Flossie and Freddie are doing now, Bert,” Mr. Bobbsey told the older boy. A little later when Bert came upon the twins beating the bramble bush while the ewe and lamb were struggling and bleating, Bert cried:

He tried to help the small twins but all their efforts only frightened the sheep the more. When Mr. Bobbsey came up he decided to call one of the Mexican men to see what he could do.

“Must cut bush—no break um with sticks—too much noise—scare um sheep,” said the man, though he grinned in a friendly way at the children.

With a big sharp knife he had soon cut enough of the bush away so that the sheep-mother and her baby could be lifted out. They were both much frightened and their fleeces were full of thorns and brambles. Yet neither the ewe nor the lamb was harmed. When most of the trash had been removed from them, they were set down in a cleared place and soon scampered away to join the main flock.

“The mother must have strayed away with her little lamb,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “It’s a good thing you found them, my dears,” she said to the little twins, “or they might have had to stay there all night.”

Flossie and Freddie went back to the ranch house with the others, happy that they had been able to help the poor animals. They found much going on around the buildings where Mr. Robin made his home.

Mr. Landorp had decided to take some shots of herders on their horses and wanted “action.” The Indian and Mexican sheep-tenders were therefore dashing up and down, shouting and yelling, pretending to fall off their horses, and doing all sorts of lively tricks. Meanwhile, the camera men were grinding away, using up many feet of film. All these scenes were finally to be worked in with the main picture so as to make a complete one.

The last one was where Mr. Robin rode up at a fast pace, pretending to summon his herders to drive away a band of thieves who were supposed to be after his sheep. The artist was on Smoky, the horse Bert and Slim were endeavoring to train. Much to their delight, the animal did very well indeed.

“That’s a fine horse!” said the director, when all the scenes had been shot. “Of course, he isn’t as good as Nero.”

“We must get Nero in some of the shots soon,” went on the director. “I want to make some tests of him. Can you trot him out now?”

“No, not just now,” said Mr. Robin, with a warning look at those who knew the secret.

The next day Mr. Landorp was so busy directing the taking of shots of large herds of sheep and being driven from one place to another by the herders and the clever black dogs, that he forgot to inquire about Nero. Mr. Robin was glad of this, though he knew that sooner or later he would either have to bring out his trick horse or else explain that Nero was gone.

“All of which might spoil the final scenes of the picture,” said the artist to his Bobbsey friends. “They are depending on a series of big shots toward the end, showing me and Nero in action. I wish I could get my horse back.”

“Not a thing. I can’t even locate that rascal Vega. Mendez, who is as eager to find Vega as I am, has had no luck at all. Well, maybe something will happen soon.”

The Bobbsey twins had been taken in a few simple shots that day and were all tired out when they went to bed. The work included “action,” which meant that all the children had to do considerable running. Mary Robin who acted with them had to step lively, too. Therefore, they were ready for bed when the time came for them to retire. Then, almost as soon as their heads touched the pillows, they fell fast asleep.

It must have been midnight when Bert was awakened by hearing strange noises under his window. They sounded like a horse trotting. Then a man’s voice could be heard, calling to the animal.

“Perhaps some of the ponies have broken out of the corral.” thought Bert. “I hope Smoky isn’t running away. That would be too bad. I’ll take a look.”

Getting out of bed quietly, so as not to arouse Freddie, Bert went to the window and looked out. There was a new moon which gave a little light now and then, though it was covered at times by drifting clouds. Bert peered down and saw a black horse moving along slowly beneath his window. Walking toward the animal was a man Bert thought he had seen before.

“It’s Joe Vega!” he whispered. “It’s Joe Vega, and that horse is Nero! Wow! This is something!”

CHAPTER XIX
THE ALARM

Wanting to make sure he was right, Bert stood for a moment at the open window and gazed down upon the moonlit scene. The more he looked the more he was sure the man was the Mexican.

“And it’s Nero, too,” decided Bert. Slim had taught him much about horses while he had been staying at the ranch, so he had little trouble in recognizing Mr. Robin’s trick animal.

Nero was moving along fast enough to keep ahead of Joe Vega, who was following him. The Mexican had a coil of rope in one hand which looked like a lasso, but he did not throw it.

“I guess he’s afraid of making a noise if he lassoes Nero,” reasoned Bert. “The horse isn’t used to being lassoed and might kick up a fuss. Joe is trying to catch him without doing that.”

The man was stealthily approaching the horse, talking to the animal in soothing tones. Bert knew it was his voice, for he recognized it as the one which had conversed with him and Mr. Robin the time the Mexican pretended to be a snake-charmer.

“It’s Vega, all right,” decided Bert, after looking a little longer. “But Nero doesn’t care to be caught again. I’m sure it must have been Vega who took the horse in the first place. Yet why did he bring him back to the ranch?”

Bert could not answer this question. It did seem an odd thing for the Mexican to do—to come back where he was sure to be caught with a stolen horse. Bert tried to reason it all out while he was thinking of the next move to make.

“Maybe Nero got away from Joe and the old thief had to chase him,” Bert reasoned. “If Nero did get away, the first thing he would do would be to try to get back to the ranch. Vega would then chase after him. I wonder if he came on another horse?”

Bert looked about in the moonlight for another mount, but could see none. What he did discern, however, was a small auto a short distance away near a little grove of trees. Bert could see that it did not belong to anybody on the ranch; neither did it belong to any of the movie men. Like most boys, Bert could tell the make of a car right away.

“I haven’t seen that roadster around here before,” decided Bert. “Vega must have come here in that car while chasing Nero. Now he has almost caught him again. What in the world shall I do?”

Bert realized that he needed help. He was sure that if he had Nan to aid him, the two might be able to catch Vega and recover Nero. Maybe Bert was a little too sure of himself. Perhaps he should have given the alarm to Mr. Robin at once.

But he did not. Instead, he went over to rouse Nan, who slept in a room with Flossie a little way down the hall. Taking another look out of his window, Bert saw that Vega was still sneaking up on Nero. He then went to arouse his sister. She awoke at once as he opened the door.

“Who is it? What is it?” Nan asked in a low voice so as not to awaken Flossie.

“It’s Bert,” was the answer. “Get your robe and slippers on and come out here. Joe Vega is back with Nero, but he’s trying to take the horse away again.”

“What in the world do you mean?” asked Nan. “Are you dreaming, Bert, and talking and walking in your sleep?”

“I’m wide awake,” he answered. “This is no dream. Come and see for yourself.”

Impressed with her brother’s earnestness, Nan slipped on her bathrobe, thrust her feet into the sheepskin slippers the old Indian woman had made for her, and joined Bert in the hall.

Treading softly so as not to awaken Freddie, the two went into the room. Nan looked out of the window.

“No, I wasn’t. He must have gone around to the other side of the house. Let’s look out of the hall window.”

This they did. Bert again saw the Mexican sneaking along with his coil of rope in an effort to get close enough to Nero so as to slip it around the horse’s neck without casting it as a lasso. But the animal kept edging away.

“We’re going to catch Joe Vega and get Nero back. Mr. Robin needs that horse for the movies. The director won’t be fooled much longer.”

“Oh, Bert! We can’t catch this awful man! I don’t dare go near him! He might have those horrid snakes with him!”

“I’m not going to fight him! I’m going to play a trick on him!” said the boy, a new plan coming into his mind. “I’ll sneak down and let the gas out of his car. I guess when he catches Nero, he’ll hitch the horse to the back of it and drive away. Nero will follow. But this kind of an auto has the gas tank in back and a little faucet to drain it. I’ll open it. Joe Vega can’t start his car without any gas.”

“No. Joe is on one side of the house trying to catch Nero and his auto is on the other. He can’t see me and I’ll not make any noise so he won’t be able to hear me. This will spoil his game.”

“All right, Bert. You do that and I’ll go wake up Mr. Robin.” said Nan. “He ought to know about this.”

Bert and Nan acted quickly. The boy stole softly down the stairs to go out and cripple the car. His sister went to the door of Mr. Robin’s room and knocked very lightly, for she did not want to awaken the smaller twins. Mr. Robin had said he was a light sleeper, and that if he was needed at any time during the night, he could be awakened by a light tap on his door.

This proved to be the case. Nan had just rapped gently when the voice of the rancher answered her, saying:

“I’m Nan Bobbsey,” she replied. “Joe Vega is here with your horse. Bert saw him and he’s gone down to let the gas out of his car. You’d better come down and catch Joe before he gets hold of Nero.”

“This is news!” exclaimed Mr. Robin, as he quickly got up, put on a robe, and found his slippers by means of a flashlight. “So that rascal has come back, has he? Well, we won’t let him get away this time! Good work, Nan. Where’s Bert?”

“He’s gone down. The car is on the other side of the house. Joe Vega and Nero are on this side,” and Nan pointed.

“You’d better go to Mary’s room and tell her to phone the bunk-house where the herders sleep and have some of them come here,” said Mr. Robin. “There may be a fight!”

CHAPTER XX
THE ESCAPE OF VEGA

Nan Bobbsey was thrilled. Ever since she had come to the sheep ranch there had been adventures. But she had not counted on anything like this.

As Nan went toward the room where the rancher’s sister slept, Mr. Robin sped softly down the stairs after Bert. He was just in time to see him going out by a side door.

In a low voice the boy told what he had seen, showing Mr. Robin where Vega might now be, and the location of the car.

“All right, Bert,” said the artist, “you go out there and drain off the gas. That will stop the scoundrel from getting away. I’ll go around on the other side of the house and keep him from getting Nero. My horse must have escaped from him and have come back here. It will be great to have Nero again and also to capture that rascal Vega.”

Mr. Robin was not afraid of the Mexican. Bert wished that he, too, might help capture the horse-thief. However, he had his part to play in this scene and he must do it. To cripple the car was as important as to catch Vega himself.

When they were once outside the house Mr. Robin took one direction, Bert another. They stood listening in the moonlight, and could make out the thud of Nero’s hoofs on the ground. They could not hear Joe Vega, for he was sneaking along as stealthily as a cat, but they did not doubt but that he was still looking for the horse.

As Mr. Robin went to carry out his part of the capture, Bert made his way to the place under the trees where the roadster stood. He had his flashlight with him but did not switch it on until he was close to the car. The moonlight enabled him to see where he was going, but he needed the extra light in order to find and open the drain-cock on the gas tank.

It was the make of auto he had thought it to be at first glance, and it was not long before he located the little faucet and opened it. Then a stream of gasoline ran onto the ground. Bert was wise to have used a flashlight and not a match, for otherwise there might have been a dangerous explosion and a fire.

“There, you won’t go very far in that car even if you do catch Nero!” murmured Bert, as he crawled out from under the tank and started for the side of the house in the direction Mr. Robin had taken.

As he made the turn and came within sight of what was going on there, Bert heard Mr. Robin shout:

“Nero, come here!” ordered Mr. Robin, seeing his animal prancing to get away from the thief who wanted to catch him again.

Mr. Robin had taught Nero to come to him whenever he called. Usually the horse would obey, but this time the trick did not work. Probably Nero was too nervous and excited by Vega’s treatment of him to obey his master’s voice. At any rate, he did not respond to the call.

“Vega, if you try to catch my horse, I’ll see that you are caught and punished!” threatened the ranchman.

“What I care!” the Mexican now shouted, for he realized that there was no longer any sense in his being silent. “I pay you back, Señor Robin! I take Nero for myself. I have heem once but he gat away from me. But now I gat him again!”

At that instant Vega managed to get close to Nero—close enough so that he could leap onto the animal’s back. Probably the horse was confused by all that was going on.

Once astride Nero, the thief urged him to a gallop. It was natural for Nero to run when told to do so. He did not know that he was running away from his own stable and master. He just kept galloping along as fast as he possibly could.

“I nevair come back!” yelled the thief, riding away rapidly. Soon he was lost to sight amid the shadows as the moon hid behind some clouds.

All this Bert saw as he came running around the corner of the house after having let the gasoline out of Vega’s car. At that moment some ranchers, aroused by Nan and Mary, came rushing up. But they were too late. Joe Vega had escaped.

“We’ll catch him!” shouted Mr. Robin. “Quick, men! Saddle your horses and make after him. We’ll get him yet. I’ll be with you as soon as I can get some clothes on. He headed northwest!”

Even though the men started after Joe Vega as soon as they could, they could not catch sight of him and Nero, though they galloped along like mad. The moon was clouded over, so that the Mexican could easily conceal himself in the darkness.

After riding for several miles Mr. Robin gave the word to turn back. The Bobbseys as well as the rest of the people at the ranch wondered what was going on. What had happened, and where was everybody?

“He has escaped this time,” said Mr. Robin to his men. “But now we know for certain he has Nero and perhaps we can get on his trail. He probably rode into some little valley where he will stay hidden for a time. But we’ll keep after him.”

“He left his car anyhow, boss,” said Slim, as the party of herders got back to the ranch.

“Yes, thanks to Bert Bobbsey. That little man thought of the trick. If he hadn’t been aroused by the noise and gone up to see what it was, we might never have known that Nero came back and that Vega pursued him. His car is here, but I would rather have Nero than half a dozen cars.”

“First time I ever knew Joe Vega could drive an auto,” Slim said. “I wonder where he got it?”

By the time the searching party returned most of the dwellers at the ranch had been aroused by the excitement. Then it was that the movie director learned for the first time that Nero had been missing.

“That’s too bad, Mr. Robin,” he said. “How are we to get the shots of you and the trick horse if there isn’t any trick horse?”

“They’ll have to work fast, then. There isn’t much time left. I’ll soon have to get back and shoot other scenes in this picture. I can’t waste much more time here. I’ve nearly all I want except some pictures of you and Nero. So what are we to do?”

“Use Smoky, unless I should get Nero back in time. I know for a certainty now what I only suspected before—Joe Vega has my horse. I’ll get the sheriff and his men after that Mexican.”

“Well, I hope you catch both him and the horse. In the morning I’ll finish making shots of the big sheep herd we started on last week. That will finish it up.”

“As soon as it’s daylight I’ll get the sheriff after Joe Vega,” declared Mr. Robin.

It was difficult to go to sleep after all the excitement of trying to catch Nero and the man who had stolen him, but some of them did.

In the morning Mr. Robin telephoned the sheriff, who is a sort of head policeman. Sheriff Lamson lived in the town of Arrapville, which was fifteen miles from the sheep ranch. When the actor got in touch with the office he was told some surprising news. A deputy sheriff gave out the information that Sheriff Lamson had gone into the hills on the trail of a bandit and had not returned.

“He’s somewhere around your place, Mr. Robin,” the deputy said. “At least, he headed that way in his roadster and we haven’t heard from him since. If you see him tell him about that Vega chap and your horse, and I’m sure he’ll help you.”

“I’ll do that,” said the rancher. “But it’s strange the sheriff hasn’t telephoned back to you.”

“Oh, nothing could happen to Fred Lamson,” said the deputy with a laugh. “He’ll soon be back and then he’ll help you arrest Joe Vega.”

CHAPTER XXI
WHAT FREDDIE FOUND

Mr. Landorp, the movie director, was rather angry the next day because he had not been told that Nero was missing from the ranch.

“Well,” answered the rancher, “I kept hoping all the while that I would get back the horse. We should have, if it hadn’t been for that cunning rascal who got the best of us. But we’ll catch him yet, and I’ll have Nero ready for the last movie shots.”

“I’m afraid that will be too late,” said the director. “I must finish this part of the picture by a certain time and we can’t do it without your horse. All the work we have done so far will amount to nothing unless we have Nero.”

“We’ll try Smoky,” suggested the artist. “Bert and Slim have been training him for some time. He ought to do all right.”

“We’ll give him a real test,” agreed Mr. Landorp. “I hope he will be as good as Nero, though I doubt it. Anyhow, it’s the only thing we can do. I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” said Mr. Robin. “If I ever catch that Joe Vega—well, there’s no use talking about it. Let’s see what Smoky can do.”

“I think he’ll do very well,” said Bert eagerly. “He’s a lot better than he was, Mr. Robin. But there’s one thing Slim and I found out.”

“Smoky likes carrots better than sugar. Nero liked to get sugar after his tricks but Smoky prefers carrots. He works better when you feed them to him.”

“Then I’ll order an extra supply of them, Bert. I hope the new horse will make good. If he doesn’t, I’ll lose a lot of money, for I won’t be paid for my part in the picture until it is all made, trick scenes and everything.”

The next afternoon, after some final small shots had been taken out on the range, Mr. Robin, Bert and Slim took Smoky to a quiet place, where one camera man was to make some last tests of how the horse would behave.

“If he does well in this rehearsal,” the director said, “it will be all right. If he doesn’t, everything’s off!”

“If he doesn’t, I’ll never train another horse,” declared Slim, the fat foreman.

At first it seemed as if Smoky was going to do perfectly. In his first simple tricks with Mr. Robin on his back he behaved just as he was supposed to. He ran, trotted, reared up, and loosened a handkerchief tied on one of his hind legs. But when he was told to kneel down, make some bows, and then roll over and pretend to be a dead horse, why, he just wouldn’t.

Mr. Robin coaxed him and commanded him. Bert tried his best, and so did Slim. Then they gave Smoky some carrots and even sugar, but he just wouldn’t do as he should. Time and again they tried until they were all weary and the horse began to get skittish and shy.

“I think you are right,” said the actor. “I’ll try to get hold of Sheriff Lamson again and ask him if he has heard anything of Joe Vega or Nero. Can you give me a few more days to find Nero?”

“Yes, a few more,” offered the director. “Then if we don’t get him into the picture films, everything’s all off. I’ll have to take my men and the company back to the studio.”

The cameras were taken away. Slim led Smoky back to the special stable where he had a stall all to himself. Mr. Robin and Bert rode back to the ranch house in a small car.

“Horses are an uncertain proposition,” went on Mr. Robin. “You never can tell what they will do next. However, you and Slim did your best.”

“What are you going to do now?” Bert asked, as he and Mr. Robin came to the ranch headquarters.

“I’m going to see if I can reach Sheriff Lamson by wire. He must be back from hunting the bandit by this time, and he and his men should be able to get on the trail of Vega and Nero.”

Bert went into Mr. Robin’s office when the artist telephoned. It took some time before he was connected with Arrapville. Though Bert could hear only one side of the conversation, he gathered from it that the sheriff had not yet returned.

“That’s rather strange,” said Mr. Robin. “No, we haven’t seen him out here. Maybe that bandit kidnaped him. What are you deputies going to do if the sheriff doesn’t show up soon? Oh, you’ll come out here yourselves, eh? Well, I wish one of you would. I need my horse very much and one of you fellows might help me find him and also that rascal Vega. Yes, if I see or hear of the sheriff being out this way, I’ll let your office know. Goodbye!”

“The sheriff is still out in the hills in his car after that bandit. He’s one of the few officers around here who uses an auto, for most of them depend upon horses. But Fred Lamson is different. So I didn’t get any news there.”

“Yes, it is. But the sheriff may pass this way any time now. If he does, I’ll see if I can get his help in running down Joe Vega. There isn’t anything more that we can do now except wait.”

The rest of that day was spent by the director in taking some shots of members of his own movie company in different places on the ranch. This would complete the film, save for the important scenes in which Mr. Robin and his horse were to take part.

“Not a thing. I can’t even get the sheriff to help me. He’s somewhere in the hills trying to catch a bandit.”

“If there’s any bandit worse than Joe Vega I’d like to hear about him,” the director said.

The next morning Bert was up early. He decided to find Slim and make a few last-minute attempts to have Smoky do what he was supposed to in the picture.

“Well, we can try,” the foreman said when Bert talked to him. “But I’m afraid it won’t be of any use. Smoky is more stupid than I thought he was.”

They took the horse to a secluded spot where they would be undisturbed. All animals are best trained where there is the least amount of noise. On their way to a little dell, Bert and the foreman passed the auto which Joe Vega had deserted when he rode off on Nero. Some gasoline had been put in the tank which Bert had drained.

“Look, there’s somebody in there!” exclaimed the foreman, as he and Bert, leading Smoky, approached.

“It’s Flossie and Freddie,” said Bert. “They’ve been playing in it. But I took out the ignition key so there’s no danger of their starting it. They just pretend it’s running.”

Just then Freddie and Flossie caught sight of Bert. They shouted excitedly, and the little boy yelled:

He ran toward his brother and held out something that shone and sparkled in the sun.

“It is!” cried the foreman. “Gosh! It’s the badge of Sheriff Fred Lamson who’s been missing in the hills while looking for that bandit. How did it get in Joe Vega’s car?”

CHAPTER XXII
NOISES IN THE CAVE

Slim Ranson was more excited over the badge Freddie had found than the boy himself was. Flossie had not paid much attention to what her twin was saying. She had, however, found out that the back seats of Joe Vega’s car were very springy, so that she was now teetering up and down on them like the “fat fairy” her father used to call her.

For a moment Bert did not understand exactly what was meant by Freddie’s discovery. He had given the shiny badge to the foreman.

“It sure is the sheriff’s badge,” went on Slim. “It has his name stamped on it.”

“But how did it get in Joe Vega’s car?” asked Bert, putting the same question to the foreman that the foreman had asked him.

“If you want to know,” said Slim suddenly, “I believe the sheriff dropped it there during a fight.”

“The fight he had with Joe Vega before Joe got the best of him and perhaps put him away somewhere.”

“I think,” said the foreman, as he turned the shiny badge over in his hand, “that after Sheriff Lamson started out into the hills back of the ranch to look for the bandit he met Joe Vega. There was an alarm out for the Mexican which Mr. Robin had telephoned. A lot of sheriffs and deputies around here were on the lookout for Vega. And when Lamson saw him he started to arrest him. More than likely Joe was riding Nero. The sheriff drove his car close up to the trick horse, which probably scared Nero so that he ran away and came here.

“We’ll find out about that later. Anyhow, the sheriff and Joe Vega had a fight, either in the car or near it. Lamson was beaten and his badge torn off his coat. It either fell into the car, or else Vega threw it there later and forgot about it. Show us where you found it, Freddie.”

“It was in front, right under the cushion. I pulled up the cushion to see if there were any tools in case Flossie and I should get a flat tire, and then I saw this badge. After that you came along.”

“The badge may have slipped down under the seat cushion or else Joe tried to hide it there,” said the foreman. “Anyhow, I believe the Mexican got the best of the sheriff and took his car. He used it to chase Nero, who ran away to our ranch. Vega followed him there and you know the rest, Bert.”

“That’s what we must find out, Bert. I think that Joe Vega has either harmed Lamson or else has hidden him away in the hills. That’s why the sheriff doesn’t go back to his office.”

“They don’t come much worse,” said the foreman. “Hurry, for we must get back to the ranch. We can’t stop to work with Smoky now. There’s too much to be done.”

“What shall we do?” asked Bert, as the foreman put the badge in his pocket and started over toward the car in which Freddie and Flossie had resumed their play.

“We’ll have some of the herders go out and look for the sheriff as well as Vega and Nero,” was the answer. “Have you the ignition key to the sheriff’s car, Bert?”

“Good! Give it to me. I’ll drive it back to the ranch house with Flossie and Freddie. You can ride Smoky. I want to make sure this is the right auto before we do anything. I’m certain it’s Lamson’s badge, but I’m not positive it’s his car.”

“I’ll get Mr. Robin to telephone the office in Arrapville for a description of the sheriff’s machine. It will be easy to tell then. You can ride Smoky, can’t you?”

Flossie and Freddie were delighted to ride back to the ranch buildings with the foreman. They arrived before Bert, for even the old-fashioned roadster was speedier than Smoky. Bert did not want to ride too fast. When he did arrive at the ranch he found the place in an uproar of excitement. Many herders who were off duty were gathered around Mr. Robin and Mr. Bobbsey as Slim told them his story, showing the badge and explaining how it had been found in the car.

“It’s the sheriff’s car, all right,” Slim said to Bert as the boy rode up. “We telephoned to Arrapville and the description fits.”

“We’ll get a squad of men together right away,” said Mr. Robin, “and begin the search at once. We may find all three together—the sheriff, Joe Vega, and my horse Nero.”

“I’ll also get some shots of the crowd as they start out to locate the missing sheriff,” said the director. “I hope some of the camera men will be on hand when the horse is located and Joe Vega caught. That will make a great picture. Come on, now. Action, you photographers! Lively!”

Mr. Landorp was in his usual, peppy spirits. Action was what he wanted to have all day long. He shouted to the camera men to get their machines ready and went with them and the searching party into the hills.

Word came to Mr. Robin from the authorities in Arrapville that they, also, would send out men to look for the missing sheriff. So now the hunt really started by Freddie Bobbsey was taken up.

“Scatter now!” Mr. Robin told them. “Search the hills for some trace of the sheriff. And I hope you find Joe Vega and Nero.”

Far into the night the men kept up their search, which lasted all the next day too, but without result. There was no trace of the Mexican, the missing sheriff, or the stolen horse.

There had been a great deal of excitement at the ranch ever since the day the Bobbseys arrived, so Mrs. Bobbsey wanted to give the younger twins a complete change for a while. One day, when no report had come that Sheriff Lamson, Nero, or Joe Vega had been found, she said:

“A picnic!” exclaimed Nan. “That would be lovely. May I ask Mary to come?” she inquired.

“Of course,” replied Mrs. Bobbsey. “In fact, she will have to show us the way to a nice picnic place. I don’t know of any around here.”

“Nimble Bluff, out near the hills where the searching party has been riding around, is a lovely spot,” said Mary, when told of the plan. “The scenery is beautiful, and there is a little brook and a couple of caves.”

“Oh, yes,” her mother answered. “It wouldn’t be much of a picnic without lunch. We’ll take plenty of good things with us.”

The next day the ranch cook put up two baskets of lunch for the party. Then they started out in an auto which Mr. Robin let Mr. Bobbsey use. The rancher was busy sending some of his herders out on a new quest for the sheriff and Nero, so he could not accompany his friends.

“Please do,” urged Mrs. Bobbsey. “We’ll save some of the lunch for you.”

It was a merry party that later gathered under the shady trees of Nimble Bluff. The children played games until it was time to get out the things to eat.

“All right. Come with me,” she said, and led the way up a hill trail. Bert and Nan went along with Flossie and Freddie.

The entrance to the cave soon came in plain sight. Mary pointed it out before they reached it, and Freddie ran on ahead as he always did. He went near the opening, but did not go in. Instead, he came running back and said:

“Well,” said Freddie with a serious look on his face, “I heard some funny noises coming from the cave and they sounded like bear noises. I’m not going in!”

CHAPTER XXIII
A STRANGE DISCOVERY

Bert Bobbsey, who had wandered a little distance from the cave entrance was now walking toward it and heard what Freddie said.

“What’s that?” he called. “You aren’t afraid of a noise, are you, Freddie?”

“What sort of a noise was it?” asked Nan. “I don’t hear anything now.”

“There aren’t any bears around here,” Mary insisted, as Nan looked at her. “I never saw one, anyhow.”

“What sort of a sound does a bear make?” asked Bert, wanting to find out if his small brother knew.

“A bear goes ‘gurr! gurr! gurr!’ That’s how a bear goes,” insisted Freddie, “and that’s what I heard. Listen! There it is again!”

They all stood there quietly for a moment. Then a strange noise came from the cave. There was no doubt of it. They all heard it. Flossie ran and took hold of Nan’s hand. Freddie moved a little closer to Bert, who looked wonderingly at Mary and Nan. Then Mary said:

“That isn’t a bear. That’s a man groaning—a man who is hurt in the cave. Anyhow, it isn’t a bear.”

“If it’s a man,” said Bert, “we’d better help him.” He started for the entrance but Nan cried:

“We’ll go tell Daddy and Mother,” spoke Nan. “They’ll know what to do.”

The children hurried back to the place where Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey had finished setting out the lunch. Both were much surprised when told of the noises in the cave.

“I’ll go see what it is,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “It may be a man or a boy who, while exploring the cave fell down and hurt himself. Is it very large, Mary?”

“It goes back a distance under the hill, Mr. Bobbsey. I have never been very far inside of it. It’s too dark to find your way.”

“There’s a flashlight in Mr. Robin’s car,” Bert said. “I saw it in one of the door pockets.”

“That will be just the thing,” exclaimed his father. “Get it, Bert, for you know where it is, and I’ll take a look around the cave. The noises you heard may be nothing but the wind moaning among some crevices.”

While Mrs. Bobbsey waited near the entrance to the cave with the five children, Mr. Bobbsey, carrying the flashlight, started inside.

Mr. Bobbsey had been in the cave only a couple of minutes when those outside heard him exclaim in wonder. Then they heard him talking to someone, who answered him. There was no doubt, now, that the cave noises had been made by a man.

The sounds of the two voices suddenly ceased. For a few seconds there was silence.

“I’m going in there!” cried Bert. “Maybe something has happened to Dad.”

A moment later Mr. Bobbsey came slowly out of the cave, almost carrying a man who seemed too weak to walk.

“This is Sheriff Lamson,” said the children’s father. “He has been kept a prisoner in this cave for several days. Joe Vega put him in there and tied him up. Bert, get me some water! Quick!”

It was evident that the sheriff had been very badly treated. His tongue and lips were so dry he could hardly speak. All he could do was murmur:

Bert came hurrying back with a thermos bottle of cool water and a cup. The picnic party had brought some with them as Mary said the spring at Nimble Bluff was not safe to drink from. Too many sheep drank there.

Sheriff Lamson was so thirsty that he would have swallowed the whole bottle of water in one gulp, but Mr. Bobbsey said:

“Better go slow, Mr. Lamson. Take a few sips at a time. And then you can eat something.”

“Thank you, sir. I am hungry. Oh, what a time I’ve had. If I ever get that rascal Vega, I’ll lock him up for a long time!”

“Then it was Joe Vega?” asked Mr. Bobbsey, as the sheriff took another sip of the cooling drink. “I couldn’t understand you very well in the cave.”

“Rest a while,” advised Mr. Bobbsey. “Afterward you shall have some lunch with us and then we’ll take you down to Mr. Robin’s ranch. He’ll be glad to see you.”

“I could drive to the ranch after I eat a bit but I have no car,” said the sheriff. “Vega stole that and he must have taken my badge too. I haven’t it.”

“I found it in your car!” exclaimed Freddie, delighted to take some part in the affair.

“Joe Vega left it there when he came after Nero,” Bert explained. “I saw him and I let the gas out but the Mexican got away on Mr. Robin’s horse.”

“I don’t suppose you have any idea where Vega is now, have you?” asked Mr. Bobbsey.

“I haven’t seen either of them,” he answered. “Not in several days. He came back once, after he tied me up in the cave, to leave me some food. He may come back again. I don’t believe he would exactly want me to starve to death.”

“I should think not,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “That gives me an idea. We may be able to catch Vega now.”

Bert and Nan wondered what their father meant but he did not stop to explain just then.

“If you feel able to walk to where we have set out our picnic lunch,” suggested Mrs. Bobbsey, “we can give you something to eat.”

“Thank you, I need it,” the sheriff said. “I’m feeling much better now. I can walk all right—but slowly. I’m glad my car and badge are safe. It’s a poor sort of joke when his own badge is taken from a sheriff,” he said to Mr. Bobbsey.

After eating several sandwiches and drinking some hot coffee which Mrs. Bobbsey had in another thermos bottle, the sheriff felt much better and could tell his story.

Mr. Bobbsey related how he had gone into the cave and had seen by means of his flashlight a man lying on the ground, securely tied with ropes. There were some old bags which served as a bed, and some boxes that had evidently been used for seats and a table. But there was no food. A can that had held water was dry.

Mr. Bobbsey had exclaimed aloud in surprise as he saw the bound man. He then quickly cut the ropes and roused the sheriff, who was in a sort of daze. The two men then said a few words, as Mr. Bobbsey and the children outside the cave had heard them do.

“You see,” the sheriff explained when he had finished eating, “I came out to the hills after a bandit—a man every bit as bad as Joe Vega. I had heard about him, but I didn’t know he was in this vicinity. I was scouting around here and there. Once I got out of my car and left it in a lonesome place to go in among some trees to look for my man. When I came back I saw the Mexican in my car. I ordered him out, but he wouldn’t go, so I jumped in and we had a fight.

“I must say, for a small man, he is very strong and desperate. He got the best of me and the first thing I knew he had me hog-tied and had dragged me into this cave, after driving me here in my own car. Then he went away. But he came back with some food and water and said he’d bring me more after a while. He did once, but I haven’t seen him since. I don’t know where he is.”

“Did you see anything of a black horse named Nero—a trick horse?” asked Bert.

“No, I didn’t,” the sheriff answered. “I didn’t see any horse at all.”

CHAPTER XXIV
THE CHASE

Bert and the rest of them were greatly disappointed at the sheriff’s answer. The children had hoped, after hearing that Joe Vega had been the cause of the man’s disappearance, that Nero might be somewhere around the cave.

“This is what I think happened,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “After Joe Vega took Mr. Robin’s horse he came to this part of the country where he had lived before. Perhaps he thought that after a while Mr. Robin would offer a reward for the return of Nero, and in that way he could make some money.

“Then, somehow or other Nero got away from Vega. Not wanting to chase after the horse afoot, the Mexican sought some other mode of traveling.

“Just then you came along in your car, Mr. Lamson, and this rascal saw just what he wanted—a car in which to trace the runaway Nero. Mr. Robin’s horse found his way back to the ranch, with Joe Vega close after him in your machine. Then Bert was awakened by the noise in the night and he and Nan gave the alarm. But Vega got away again.”

“He rode on Nero,” said Freddie, who had heard the talk about what had happened that night.

“I wish,” said Bert, “that Nero would do the trick of running here with Joe Vega on his back.”

“As soon as I get rested up a bit,” Sheriff Lamson said, “I’ll try some of my own tricks on that rascal.”

The strange discovery of the imprisoned sheriff in the cave almost made the picnic part of the trip to Nimble Bluff forgotten. Yet with all the excitement the Bobbsey twins and Mary did not lose their appetites and they were soon eating the delicious lunch. The officer was given some more food, and then it was decided that the whole party would go back to the ranch to report what had happened.

“I guess the men in my office are wondering what has become of me,” said the sheriff, as he rode along in Mr. Robin’s car.

“A lot of men are out searching for you,” Mr. Bobbsey said. “They will be glad to hear you are safe.”

“I’m certainly much obliged to the Bobbsey twins for finding me,” said the man with a laugh. He was feeling much better now.

There was rejoicing at the ranch when the picnic party returned with the missing sheriff. Word was at once telephoned to the office in Arrapville. Steps were then taken to call in the various searching parties.

“Now we’ll start a bigger and better hunt for Vega and Nero,” the sheriff said, after his badge had been returned to him and he was about to leave in his car. “I’ll get some men together, Mr. Robin, and if we can’t find your horse, I’ll resign and let somebody else be sheriff in my place.”

“Well, I should like to get Nero back,” said the rancher. “It will be too late for the final scenes in the movies if I don’t locate him soon.”

The next day word came from the headquarters of the movie company that some of the shots had not turned out as well as had been hoped, and would have to be taken over again.

“While I’m at it,” said Mr. Landorp, “I should like to get some more footage of the Bobbsey twins and Mary Robin. The head director says those pictures are so good he wants more. Miss Nan, will you please put on the Bo-Peep costume again?”

In spite of the serious work of trying to capture Joe Vega and get Nero back, there was much fun when Nan dressed up again. She and Mary were photographed several times doing various things about the ranch.

“This movie is going to be one of the best I ever made,” declared Mr. Landorp, when he had enough footage of Mary and Nan. “Now I want Freddie to get on his wild horse again.”

“Then I’m glad my painting is finished,” said Mr. Robin with a laugh. “I couldn’t afford to have you crash into it!”

Freddie did his part very well. Then someone suggested that Flossie might be pictured rocking the baby lamb in the cradle.

“Say, this is the first time I’ve heard of that!” exclaimed Mr. Landorp. “I certainly should like a funny scene like that.”

Another baby lamb was secured for Flossie’s act, and she was soon shown putting her doll’s clothes on it and rocking it to sleep in the cradle. The little thing behaved very well, and the entire performance was so cute, that even the camera men had to laugh, they enjoyed it so much.

“When you can make a camera man laugh,” said Mr. Landorp, “you’ve done something unusual. They see so many funny things every day that most of them have given up laughing. Flossie, you did fine!”

The day after this took place a horseman came riding up to the ranch in great excitement. His steed was foaming at the mouth. As the man leaped off, he called to Mr. Robin:

“Sheriff Lamson thinks he is on the trail of Joe Vega,” came the answer. “He sent me to tell you and see if you could help me. He had to send a lot of his own deputies off on another bandit chase and he’s short-handed. We need more men to capture Vega.”

“I’ll come with you myself and bring some of my men,” said Mr. Robin. “Where did the sheriff see Vega?”

“The sheriff didn’t exactly see Vega,” was the answer, “but a herder for another ranch saw a man who answers the Mexican’s description out in the hills near the cave. This man was riding a coal-black horse.”

“It might have been Nero,” said Mr. Robin, “though there are many black horses around here. Wait, and I’ll be with you in a few minutes with some of my men.”

“The sheriff,” went on the deputy, whose name was Frank Baldwin, “has had a man keep watch around the cave where he was held prisoner. He thought Vega might come back with more food and water, not knowing the sheriff had gone. Lamson figured Vega wouldn’t be so heartless as to leave him bound very long without something to eat.”

“Yes, while one of the deputies was on watch. But the rascal suspected something, and got away on the black horse before the deputy could stop him. We’ve been on the lookout for him ever since and now the sheriff thinks Vega is somewhere in the hills. We want to surround him.”

Mr. Robin had called to Slim and had had him collect several good riders from among the herders. Then Mr. Robin saddled his own horse, ready to go along. It was then that Bert asked:

At first Mrs. Bobbsey would not hear of it, and said “no” very decidedly. But when Mr. Robin promised to look after the lad and not let him ride into danger when the chase after Vega grew close, she gave in.

“Bert is getting to be a big boy,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “And he is a good rider.”

“I’m depending upon you, Mr. Robin, to look out for my son,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, still a bit worried about the matter.

A little later Bert, riding Smoky, followed the group of herders, Mr. Robin and the deputy out toward the hills.

CHAPTER XXV
THE CAPTURE

Starting off as they did early in the morning, the men who were pursuing Joe Vega had covered considerable ground before noon, but up to that time they had not caught sight of either the Mexican or Nero. When the sun was mid-way in the sky the men halted for lunch. Mr. Robin had had his cook put up what some of the herders called a “snack,” meaning packages of meat, bread and other things to eat. They had several thermos bottles and canteens of water with them, and there were springs in the hills to quench their thirst.

The horses were turned loose to graze a while. Thus they had their lunch and later were driven to a small brook where they drank thirstily.

“Well, let’s get started again,” proposed Mr. Robin after a short rest. “I want to get Nero back today if possible. Tomorrow is the last day when pictures can be taken.”

Again the chase was taken up. Bert and Mr. Robin rode a little in the rear, for the ranch owner, mindful of his promise, kept a close lookout for the boy’s safety. About the middle of the afternoon the lad, looking back, gave a loud shout. Pointing to a figure on a horse about half a mile away, he exclaimed:

“Don’t you think that is Vega on Nero?” asked Bert, as the artist also caught sight of the lone horseman.

“I can soon tell,” was the answer. Mr. Robin had field glasses slung over his shoulder. Halting his horse, he took a quick look. A moment later he said:

“That’s Vega, all right, and he is on Nero. If only he doesn’t get away from us!”

“He can’t get away if he keeps on as he is doing now,” said Baldwin. “He’ll ride right into a trap—a deep, narrow valley that hasn’t any means of escape at the other end. I think we’ve got him!”

He called to two of the men, and one of them was sent riding out to the left and the other to the right. Thus Joe Vega was forced to keep straight on toward the valley trap.

The chase now became a fast one. Bert wished he might ride up in front among the leading herders but Mr. Robin would not permit him to do this.

“Joe Vega is a bad man,” said the artist, “and will be desperate when he sees he is going to be caught. I must keep you safe.”

The men were now closing in on the Mexican. Once he tried to ride off to the left but he saw one of his pursuers there and had to turn. Then he tried to escape to the right but was driven back.

“He’s headed right into that valley now. He can’t get away!” yelled Baldwin.

The entrance to the valley was very near. But Joe Vega never rode into it, for suddenly Bert took from his pocket a whistle and blew on it several blasts. It was a signal he had learned from Mr. Robin in training Smoky to obey like Nero. Would the black horse remember it? Before, when he would hear this whistle, he would rear up on his hind legs and then, coming down, would wheel about and run back.

This the intelligent horse now did so quickly that Joe Vega was pitched off and thrown to the ground, where he lay motionless.

Nero, free of the man who had ridden him so fast and in such a cruel manner, looked about. Then, as Mr. Robin took the wooden toy from Bert and blew another sharp blast on the whistle, the wonderful horse came trotting back to his master.

Happy as a boy, his owner leaped off the animal he had been riding, ran to his trained pet, and threw his arms about Nero’s neck. You know what it is to love a pet and Mr. Robin thought as much of Nero as you do of your dog or cat.

“Nero! Nero! I have you again! I have you again!” cried the delighted artist. “Now everything will be all right!”

Some of the men ran over to Joe Vega. The Mexican was not hurt by his tumble from the horse, but he was stunned, and all the fight was gone from him.

“I queet! I queet!” he said, as the ranchers grabbed him. “I geeve up. Señor Robin—he is too much for me. I sorry I ever did bad to heem. I queet!”

“Well, it’s about time you quit!” said Deputy Baldwin, as he and the men tied the hands and feet of the Mexican. “Wait until our sheriff sees you.”

“Ah!” exclaimed the Mexican, smiling, for he was a bold rascal. “You are brother to the leetla boy what I show my snakes to. A Bibbsey twins, yes?”

“Yes, one of the Bobbsey twins,” said Mr. Robin. “They helped in catching you, all right, Vega.”

He was tied up and put on the back of the horse Mr. Robin had been riding. Then, with the artist astride the trick horse Nero, the return to the ranch was started. They arrived in the early evening and there was great rejoicing when it was found that Nero was not in the least harmed by having been kept so long by the Mexican. The animal was a little tired from the last furious run but he soon became rested and was well cared for.

“He came back just in time,” said Mr. Landorp. “Tomorrow is the last day I can take the shots of you and him, Mr. Robin.”

The next day the last scenes of the sheep ranch picture were taken. Once again on the back of his favorite horse, Mr. Robin seemed a different man. He was very happy.

As for Nero, he did every trick perfectly. He obeyed every order of his master. The camera men, some of whom had taken many animal pictures, said they had never before seen such an intelligent horse.

“If only Smoky could be taught to do some of those tricks,” said Slim, who was watching the last shots, “he’d be almost as good as Nero. I’m disappointed in that horse of mine.”

Suddenly shouts and exclamations came from a group of the herders who were watching the final pictures being taken. Mr. Robin, who had dismounted from Nero, looked to see what could be the reason.

Bert Bobbsey was riding up on Smoky. Though he had intended only to take a little ride, he soon found that his horse had other ideas. The animal darted toward the place where Nero was being filmed, and without any orders at all began doing some of the tricks Bert and Slim had tried in vain to have him perform in front of the cameras. Now he pranced and reared up and then, just as Bert, sensing it was about to happen, jumped off, Smoky dropped down and pretended to be dead.

“Maybe he wants to show off before Nero,” added Bert, laughing and much pleased with the showing Smoky had made.

“Anyhow, he performed very well,” spoke Mr. Robin. “He’s a better horse than I gave him credit for, Slim.”

“Well, I’m going to give you and Bert credit for training him,” went on Mr. Robin. “Smoky must have been keeping everything from us and now is showing off all he knows at one time.”

To make sure it was not what Slim called a “flash in the pan,” Smoky was put through his tricks again, and did them all. Not as well as Nero did his, of course, but then, Nero was an unusual horse. But Smoky did splendidly, and when the two horses were tried out together they put on an act that even the camera men applauded.

“He certainly can,” replied the director. “I’ll take some final shots of you seated on him, and Mr. Robin astride Nero. That will round out the ranch scene very nicely.”

This was done, and everything turned out for the best. Nero and Smoky did their tricks out on the plains among the sheep and the herders, with Bert on the latter, and Mr. Robin on the former. Night, the black sheep dog, was used part of the time and did very well, too.

“I guess that’s all,” said the director when, at last, the cameras stopped grinding. “Everything came out very well, and not a day too soon, either, Mr. Robin.”

“I am very glad,” said the ranchman. “And we must thank the Bobbsey twins for what they did to make this film-drama a success.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Mr. Landorp heartily. “Maybe, some day, I’ll make a whole moving picture of the Bobbsey twins. And they might even go on the radio. Who knows?”

“Don’t put too many ideas into their heads,” said Mrs. Bobbsey with a laugh, though she was really very pleased.

So the happy and exciting days of the Bobbsey twins on the ranch came to an end. They remained as guests of Mr. Robin after the moving picture people had left. When it came time for the Bobbseys to go home, Mr. Robin asked them to visit him again.

“And will you have a little lamb for me to pretend is a baby?” asked Flossie.

“It’s all been so wonderful and lovely,” said Nan, as she said good-bye to Mary. “I hope our pictures will turn out all right.”

“So do I,” said the ranch girl. “And I hope you will come again and bring that Bo-Peep costume with you.”

Nan said she hoped to, not dreaming that before she could do so, many other adventures were to happen to her and her family. One of the good times was to take place in the Far North. It is called “The Bobbsey Twins in Eskimo Land.”

Now their Daddy called them to climb into the auto that was to start the trip home.

Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple spellings occur, majority use has been employed.

Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors occur.

Book name and author have been added to the original book cover. The resulting cover is placed in the public domain.

[The end of The Bobbsey Twins on a Ranch, by Laura Lee Hope.]

CHAPTER		PAGE
I	Spoiling the Show	1
II	The Gallant Rescuer	13
III	Nero Entertains	22
IV	Nan Makes a Hit	31
V	Freddie Disappears	41
VI	Fun at Sea	49
VII	The Snake-Charmer	59
VIII	“Where is Nero?”	67
IX	Bert is Rammed	78
X	A New Nero	87
XI	Flossie’s Baby	94
XII	Freddie’s Queer Horse	102
XIII	Some Shots at Nan	108
XIV	Bert Poses	118
XV	Pancho Seeks Revenge	125
XVI	Freddie’s Wild Ride	132
XVII	Rescued from the Brambles	141
XVIII	Noises in the Night	150
XIX	The Alarm	156
XX	The Escape of Vega	162
XXI	What Freddie Found	169
XXII	Noises in the Cave	176
XXIII	A Strange Discovery	183
XXIV	The Chase	191
XXV	The Capture	198

THE BOBBSEY TWINSON A RANCH

CHAPTER I SPOILING THE SHOW

CHAPTER II THE GALLANT RESCUER

CHAPTER III NERO ENTERTAINS

CHAPTER IV NAN MAKES A HIT

CHAPTER V FREDDIE DISAPPEARS

CHAPTER VI FUN AT SEA

CHAPTER VII THE SNAKE-CHARMER

CHAPTER VIII “WHERE IS NERO?”

CHAPTER IX BERT IS RAMMED

CHAPTER X A NEW NERO

CHAPTER XI FLOSSIE’S BABY

CHAPTER XII FREDDIE’S QUEER HORSE

CHAPTER XIII SOME SHOTS AT NAN

CHAPTER XIV BERT POSES

CHAPTER XV PANCHO SEEKS REVENGE

CHAPTER XVI FREDDIE’S WILD RIDE

CHAPTER XVII RESCUED FROM THE BRAMBLES

CHAPTER XVIII NOISES IN THE NIGHT

CHAPTER XIX THE ALARM

CHAPTER XX THE ESCAPE OF VEGA

CHAPTER XXI WHAT FREDDIE FOUND

CHAPTER XXII NOISES IN THE CAVE

CHAPTER XXIII A STRANGE DISCOVERY

CHAPTER XXIV THE CHASE

CHAPTER XXV THE CAPTURE

THE BOBBSEY TWINS
ON A RANCH