If he had, the only thing to do was to act natural. He was now too close to a habitation--although he could see none--to do otherwise. So he dismounted and, tying his horse to the spring fence, he stepped through the gate and picked up the rusted tin cup and dipped it in the cold mountain water. He had the cup halfway to his lips when his horse nickered. From somewhere in the brush came an answering nicker. Cheyenne, kneeling, threw the water from the cup as though he had discovered dirt in it, and dipped the cup again. Behind him he heard his horse moving restlessly. As Cheyenne raised the cup to drink, he half closed his eyes, and glancing sideways, caught a glimpse of a figure standing near the upper end of the spring fence. Cheyenne drank, set down the cup, and, rising, turned his back on the figure, and, stretching his arms, yawned heartily. He strode to his horse, untied the reins, mounted, and began to sing: Seems like I don't get anywhere Git along, cayuse, git along! But we're leavin' here and-- "What's your hurry?" came from behind him. Cheyenne turned and glanced back. "Hello, neighbor! Now, if I'd 'a' knowed you was around, I'd 'a' asked you to have a drink with me." A tall, heavy-set mountain man, bearded, and limping noticeably, stepped round the end of the spring fence and strode toward him. From Uncle Frank's description, Cheyenne at once recognized the stranger as Sneed. Across Sneed's left arm lay a rifle. Cheyenne saw him let down the hammer as he drew near. "Where you headed?" queried Sneed. "Me, I'm lookin' for Bill Sneed's cabin. You ain't Sneed, are you?" "Yes, I'm Sneed." "Well, I'm in luck. I'm Cheyenne Hastings." "That don't buy you nothin' around here. What do you want to see me about?" "Why, I done lost a couple of hosses the other night. I reckon somethin' stampeded 'em, for they never strayed far from camp before. I trailed 'em up to the hills and then lost their tracks on the rocks. Thought I'd ride up and see if you had seen 'em--a little ole buckskin and a gray." Sneed waved his hand toward the east. "My corrals are over there. You're welcome to look my stock over." "Thanks. This way, you said?" "Straight ahead." Cheyenne hesitated, hoping that Sneed would take the lead. But the mountain man merely gestured again and followed Cheyenne through a patch of timber, and across another meadow--and Cheyenne caught a glimpse of the ridge of a cabin roof, and smoke above it. Close to the cabin was a large pole corral. Cheyenne saw the backs of Filaree and Joshua, among the other horses, long before he came to the corral. Yet, not wishing to appear too eager, he said nothing until he arrived at the corner of the fence. Then he turned and pointed. "Them's my hosses--the gray and the buckskin. I'm mighty glad you caught 'em up." Sneed nodded. "One of my boys found them in with a bunch of my stock and run them in here."