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Thet might
happen. An' then, with Nagger, you stand a chance. Did you ever tire thet
hoss?"
"Not yet."
"An' how fur did you ever run him without a break? Why, when we ketched thet
sorrel last year I rode Nagger myself--thirty miles, most at a hard gallop.
An' he never turned a hair!"
"I've beat thet," replied Lin. "He could run hard fifty miles--mebbe more.
Honestly, I never seen him tired yet. If only he was fast!"
"Wal, Nagger ain't so durned slow, come to think of thet," replied Bill, with
a grunt. "He's good enough for you not to want another hoss."
"Lin, you're goin' to wear out Wildfire, an' then trap him somehow--is thet
the plan?" asked the other comrade.
"I haven't any plan. I'll just trail him, like a cougar trails a deer."
"Lin, if Wildfire gives you the slip he'll have to fly. You've got the best
eyes for tracks of any wrangler in Utah."
Slone accepted the compliment with a fleeting, doubtful smile on his dark
face. He did not reply, and no more was said by his comrades. They rolled with
backs to the fire.


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