The Boy Ranchers in Death Valley
UNDAUNTED BY FEAR
"Look here, Billee," began Mr. Merkel as he leaned against the fence for he had just returned from a long journey and was rather weary. "Is this a joke or are you just stringing me?"
"No stringing, Boss, and not a joke either. You've bought a ranch in Death Valley as sure as shootin', and while I wish you good luck I don't see how you're going to have it--not if Death Valley is like what it was years ago."
"You aren't getting my new Dot and Dash ranch mixed up with Death Valley in the Panamint Mountains of California; are you?" asked Mr. Merkel. "I know that place--four hundred feet below sea level--alkali--borax and all that sort of stuff. Do you mean----?"
"No, I don't mean that Death Valley," interrupted Billee. "This Death Valley I speak of is only a local name for the region around Los Pompan. But it's as bad as the other."
"Suppose you tell me more about it, Billee," suggested the ranch owner.
"Sounds like it