Directly after dinner had been served Kit Carson suggested to his young friend: “I think it is time for us to see if the wild horses have not come back. I don’t want that black leader to get away from us.” Reuben laughed as he said: “Do you still believe that you’re going to catch him?” “I know I am,” said Kit Carson. “It’s only a question of time.” “He certainly is able to make good time,” retorted Reuben. “He ran away from us day before yesterday almost as if he didn’t know we were on earth. My horse was almost winded and that fellow trotted along almost as if he were laughing at us. Do you think a horse _can_ laugh?” “I have heard of a ‘horse laugh,’” replied the scout, smiling dryly. “I have not only heard of one, but heard one.” “Well, if you heard one you haven’t forgotten it. Tell Jack, and we’ll start right soon.” A half-hour later the three trappers, after they had carefully looked to their mounts, departed from the camp and again saw the valley where the black leader and his drove had first been discovered. A careful search was made, but no signs of the presence of the wild horses were discovered. “We’ll wait until night,” suggested Kit Carson. “It was after sunset when they put into this gorge before.” The men waited in accordance with the suggestion of their leader, but when darkness fell the horses had not been seen. “There’s no use,” said Kit Carson. “They aren’t coming here to-night.” “How do you know?” inquired Reuben. “Why, you can see for yourself. The wild ponies, as a rule, do not travel much after dark. It is almost dark now, and if they were coming here they would have shown up before this time.” “Where do you think they are?” “I don’t know where they are. I thought they were here. If I knew just where they were I would go there, wouldn’t I? I think they will come back here, though, and the only thing for us to do is to keep watch and be sure to be on hand when they do come.” On two successive days the eager trappers returned to the valley, but the wild horses were not seen. Alone Kit Carson made excursions for many miles in the immediate vicinity, but his efforts were unrewarded and not a sight of the handsome black leader was had. Still the scout did not abandon his efforts. A few days later, at his suggestion, Reuben and Jack once more accompanied him, departing from the camp soon after dinner. Quietly they rode among the foothills, keeping careful watch on every side. They had almost returned to the place where first the wild horses had been seen when Kit Carson abruptly stopped and, pointing to a place in advance of them, said in a low voice: “There are ponies yonder. Do you see them?” “I can see something moving,” replied Reuben, after a long silence.