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Still another method,
discovered by accident, was to shoot a horse lightly in the neck and sting
him. This last, called creasing, was seldom successful, and for that matter in
any method ten times as many horses were killed as captured.
Lin Slone helped the Stewarts in their own way, but he had no especial liking
for their tricks. Perhaps a few remarkable captures of remarkable horses had
spoiled Slone. He was always trying what the brothers claimed to be
impossible. He was a fearless rider, but he had the fault of saving his mount,
and to kill a wild horse was a tragedy for him. He would much rather have
hunted alone, and he had been alone on the trail of the stallion Wildfire when
the Stewarts had joined him.
Lin Slone awoke next morning and rolled out of his blanket at his usual early
hour. But he was not early enough to say good-by to the Stewarts. They were
gone.
The fact surprised him and somehow relieved him. They had left him more than
his share of the outfit, and perhaps that was why they had slipped off before
dawn.


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