"I didn't. I jest held my loop in front of some carrots and High-Tail shoves his head into it. Then I says, 'Whoosh!' and he jumps back--and I hung on." "How in Sam Hill did you get him here?" queried Uncle Frank. "Jest held a carrot to his nose--and he walked along tryin' to get it." "Well you shake off that loop and haze him back into the corral." High-Tail, having eaten the carrot, decided to go elsewhere. He backed away and blatted. Little Jim took a quick dally round a veranda post. High-Tail plunged and fought the rope. "Turn him loose!" cried Uncle Frank. "What's the matter?" said Aunt Jane, appearing in the doorway. Little Jim eased off the dally, but clung to the rope. High-Tail whirled and started for the corral. Little Jim set back on his heels, but Little Jim was a mere item in High-Tail's wild career toward freedom. A patter of hoofs in the dark, and Little Jim and the calf disappeared around the corner of the barn. Cheyenne laughed and rose, following Uncle Frank to the corral. When they arrived, High-Tail had made his third round of the corral, with Jimmy still attached to the rope. Cheyenne managed to stop the calf and throw off the noose. Little Jim rose and gazed wildly around. He was one color, from head to foot--and it was a decidedly local color. His jeans were torn and his cotton shirt was in rags, but his grit was unsifted. "D-didn't I hang to him, dad?" he inquired enthusiastically. "You sure did!" said Cheyenne. With a pail of hot water, soap, and fresh raiment, Aunt Jane undertook to make Little Jim's return to the heart of the family as agreeable as possible to all concerned. "Isn't he hurt?" queried Bartley. "Not if he doesn't know it," stated Cheyenne. CHAPTER XIV ANOTHER GAME Cheyenne knew enough about Sneed, by reputation, to make him cautious. He decided to play ace for ace--and, if possible, steal the stolen horses from Sneed. The difficulty was to locate them without being seen. Little Jim had said the horses were in Sneed's corral, somewhere up in the mountain meadows. And because Cheyenne knew little about that particular section of the mountains, he rolled a blanket and packed some provisions to see him through. Bartley and he had returned to their camp after their visit to the ranch, and next morning, as Cheyenne made preparation to ride, Bartley offered to go with him. Cheyenne dissuaded Bartley from accompanying him, arguing that he could travel faster and more cautiously alone. "One man ridin' in to Sneed's camp wouldn't look as suspicious as two," said Cheyenne. "And if I thought you could help any, I'd say to come along. That's on the square. Me and my little old carbine will make out, I guess." So Bartley, somewhat against his inclination, stayed in camp, with the understanding that, if Cheyenne did not return in two days, he was to report the circumstance to the authorities in San Andreas, the principal town of the valley.