that, perhaps, the

ain't leavin' good feed, or leavin

home and the rest follo

ses was roped

y. Cheyenne seemed positive about the missing horses. Then Bartley saw an expression in Ch

south," reite

you kn

e hosses was travelin'. They was goin' steady. If they'd been drivin' our hosses ahead, they would 'a' go

a fire," sa

ea. We can eat. Then

n Bartley called to him, and he found Bartley point

dice. "Was you rattlin' the bones

m here. Are

y weren't here

de breakfast. Cheyenne was gone a long time, examining the

n some stray Apaches or Cholas. But they don't pack dice. A

toward his companion.

e was after. But he must 'a' knowed who was campin' around here. You see, when Wishful kind of hinted to Panhandle to leave town, Panhandle figured that meant t

especially pick us out as

figure some of his friends must 'a' told him about you--that seen you ridin' down this way. He wo

d Bartley produced a

ody lit a match and laid them dice there--sixes up. No reg'lar hoss-thief would take that

ble with him bef

ever trailed him. But I nev

lope meant more than an ordi

chance," sta

in a fix," as

lin' you that I aim to shoot a game of craps with Panhandle,

bout t

ts. But they's a whole lot of

the brush, taking only a canteen and a little food. He proffered

oots'll sure kill you dead, walkin

out you

t call me a tende

exa

rst I aim to make a circle and see j

lanket. Meanwhile, Cheyenne circled the camp far out, examining the scattered tra

e moccasins," said Bartley. "I'm

in

nne called. The half-dollar dropp

fifteen miles and then w

irt over the fire. Cheyenne took a last

about headin' back to

d out to visit Sen

re out to see the country, an

ntry where there was little prospect of getting a lift from a passing rancher or freighter. And he said n

is trail song, bow-legging ahead as though he we

I don't g

, cayuse,

n' here and I

cayuse, g

ed black Stetson over one eye, and

water and they

no beer o

ost like we'll

, cayuse,

two of that every few miles, and we'll make the gr

hen I'm ridin' along, to kind of fit int

when we finish, you're a

d no reputation. And I sure lose mine this trip. Why, folks all over the country will josh me to death when they hear Panhandle Sears s

nous plodding, and Cheyenne stopped

ccasins, but Cheyenne

't so much the kind of boots, because these f

and on toward the south, seemingly limitless, without sign of fence or civilization save for the narrow road that swu

eyenne strode along, Bar

yearlin'," said; Cheyenne, as B

imself to a slower pace, realizing that, while his companion could ha

s Cheyenne whipped up his gun and fired. The coyote jack-knifed and lay still. Ch

work," rema

down on him to see if

hoot like that, I wouldn't let an

in' fast with a gun is just like advertisi

at Cheyenne limped slightly. But Cheyenne still refused to put on the moccasins. Bartley argued that his own feet were ge

g a short cut, he pointed to them. "There's Filaree's tracks, and there's Joshua's. Your hoss has been travelin' over he

y sell th

hiskey. Panhandle's got

to the ranch?"

now. It's about five miles from that first fence ove

where you take

start my boots with a fence stretcher. Th

hed from the constant

pped back and asked Ba

. "Keeps me interested. When I'm drillin' alo

under the unaccustomed strain of walking without heels. Cheyenne dogged along behind, suffering keenly from blistered feet, but centering his attenti

a bunch of Hereford cattle headed by a magnificent bull. The trail ran in the bottom of the gulch. On eithe

e," Cheyenne remarked. "Git along, you

tail, but did not move. The cattle behind the bull stared blandly at the invaders of their domain. The bull,

w himself up. Cheyenne stood to his guns, shied a third stone, scored a bull's-eye, and then decided to evacuate in favor of the enemy. His feet were sore, but he managed to keep a good three jumps ahead

e bull backed part-way down the grade, snapped his tail, and bellowed. Up the grade he charged ag

upon the scene, wondering if he had not better take a

oice of Cheyenne. "He's 'most g

I sho

ve hundred dollars' worth of m

coming again!"

. The bull charged, backed down, and amused himself by tossi

ave and don't show yourself, h

's a rattler in this here cave. I can hea

lanced down. The branch on w

he shouted as he f

lumsily down the slope. Bartley rolled to the bottom, still holding to a broken branch of the tr

ed to the back of my je

re torn; t

o my jeans. He sounded right mad, singin' lively, ba

head, and then a slow smile illumined his face

" said