Tex rode into the high country. He laid his plans carefully. He meant to cover the range from timber line down in a careful check of all meadows and feed grounds. He was sure he would miss no spot where a wild horse would stay because he had ridden the Crazy Kill slopes for fifteen years and knew every foot of the ground. Methodically he worked, from the north limits toward the south. He accounted for all the wild horses except Midnight and the pinto filly. At the end of the week he was worried. The black stallion must have gone down into the desert or over the divide into the wild country beyond Major Howard’s range. He had to admit he had failed in a job that seemed to him important. He knew there was no use trying to make a ride into the desert. That vast expanse of sand and canyons stretched clear to the Mexican border, while the wild country beyond the Crazy Kills was worse than the desert. It was canyon-slotted and grown dense with timber. No ranchers used it as a range. It was virgin wilderness and it was a hundred miles deep. When Major Howard ordered Tex to take charge of the drive that would bring the new herds of cattle to the high country from the railroad yards he did not object. He had had his chance and had failed. * * * * * At the foot of the high walls overlooking Shadow Canyon, Midnight and the pinto stayed hidden in the aspen grove by day. At night they either fed in the little meadow or climbed up to the high mesa. When they were on the high mesa they raced and played. They never stayed after dawn broke. Twice they scented man smell on the wind and dashed to cover along the ledge trail. The day Tex checked the high mesa for tracks or signs they were feeding below and had not been on top for several days. Rain had come and their tracks had been washed out. He had passed on after looking inside Sam’s cabin and noting how it was falling apart from disuse. The pinto pony trusted Midnight and he had his past experience to make him feel secure in his hideout. But he did not forget the lessons he had learned, and no buck deer was more alert and watchful than he. Many times Midnight led the pinto around the track he had laid out. They often ran by daylight, around and around, leaping over logs and rocks and pounding in a reckless chase over the rough trail. Midnight could easily outdistance the filly, but he never ran away from her when she dropped behind. As the days passed, both horses became sleek and fat, but Midnight did not lose his speed or power. He never became lazy, because of the nervous, high spirits which filled him. He was fast coming to the place where he would not be satisfied with the company of one filly, but another season would pass before he was ready to go forth. * * * * *