From the region beyond came an answer and the moustached one turned to Endicott: "Yup, he's went up. Don't know what room's his'n, but jest holler when you git to the top of the stairs, he ain't got to sleep yet." At the head of the stairs Endicott paused, a light showed through the crack at the bottom of a door, and he knocked. The door opened and Colston, in undershirt and trousers, bade him enter. Endicott shook his head, "No I want to borrow a horse." "Goin' after 'em?" asked Colston. "Well, help yourself. The Y Bar horses are yours, now. But if I was you I'd wait right here in Timber City. A man that ain't used to the range will get lost at night before he's gone three miles. The chances are you'll never reach the river--and what are you going to do when you get there?" "I'm going to cross--somehow. I'm going to find my wife. As for getting lost, Old Bat is going with me--or rather I'm going with him." "Bat! What's he doing here?" "Found out that the Texan had pulled out and came to get him. He knows Tex better than anyone knows him. He had guessed pretty accurately what was coming off here today, and he rode over to take the Texan back home." Colston nodded: "Go ahead. If Old Bat starts on the trail you'll find your wife." He laid a hand on Endicott's shoulder, "and just bear in mind that when you do find her, you'll find her all right! I, too, know the Texan. He's been more like--like a son to me than an employee. The boy's got his faults--but he's a man! Barring the possibility of an accident on the river, you'll find 'em safe an' sound--an', when you do find 'em, mind you bring 'em both back. You're goin' to need Tex." Endicott nodded: "I'll remember," he said, "and when we return, you have the papers ready, and we'll close the deal." While the barn dogs saddled Endicott's horse, Old Bat led the way to the alley between the livery barn and the saloon, and throwing himself upon his belly, lighted matches and studied certain marks on the ground. Satisfied at length he regained his feet. "What are you hunting for?" Endicott asked. "Hoss tracks. Tex, she ain' got hee's own hoss. Me, A'm wan' know w'at kin' track A'm foller w'en we git 'cross de riv'." "How are we going to cross?" asked Endicott as they swung along the trail at a brisk trot. "We ain' 'cross yet. Firs', we swing down de riv'. We comin' to de ranch. Plent' ranch on dis side along de riv'. We git de boat." "But, the horses? We can't take the horses in the boat." "We com' w'ere we need de hoss we hont de ranch an' git mor' hoss." At the river they halted for a few moments before heading down stream, and Endicott shuddered as he gazed out over the drift-choked surface of the flood. Old Bat devined what was passing in his mind. "De riv', she look lak hell w'en you stan' an' see her go pas'. But she ain' so bad she look. W'en de boat git een de wattaire she ron so fas' lak de res', an' she 'bout de sam' lak she stan' still."