Then he gripped Slone close and
hard. He was thinking how he would have gloried in a son like this young, wild
rider. Then he again faced his comrades.
"Fellers, do you think Cordts was in on thet trick?" he queried.
"Nope. Cordts was on the square," replied Holley. "But he must have seen it
comin' an' left Sears to his fate. It sure was a fittin' last ride for a
hoss-thief."
Bostil sent Holley and Farlane on ahead to find Cordts and Hutchinson, with
their comrades, to tell them the fate of Sears, and to warn them to leave
before the news got to the riders.
The sun was setting golden and red over the broken battlements of the canyons
to the west. The heat of the day blew away on a breeze that bent the tips of
the sage-brush. A wild song drifted back from the riders to the fore. And the
procession of Indians moved along, their gay trappings and bright colors
beautiful in the fading sunset light.
When Bostil and, his guests arrived at the corrals, Holley, with Farlane and
other riders, were waiting.
"Boss," said Holley, "Cordts an' his outfit never rid in.
Pages:
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337