“Yes--and damn it,_I_ heard the bell from then on till daylight!” Pink's lips quivered perceptibly with the mortification that burned within him. “If I'd been on guard--” “Well, I calc'late you'd a been laid out now with a knife-cut in yuh som'ers,” Applehead stopped twisting his sunburnt mustache to say bluntly. “'S a dang lucky thing fer you, young man, 't you WASN'T on guard, 'n' the only thing't looks queer to me is that you wasn't potted las' night when yuh got out away from here. Musta been only one of 'em stayed behind, an' he had t' keep out in front uh yuh t' tinkle that dang bell. Figgered on wearin' out yer hoss, I reckon, 'n' didn't skurcely dare t' take the risk uh killin' you off 'nless they was a bunch around t' handle us.” His bright blue eyes with their range squint went from one to another with a certain speculative pride in the glance. “'N' they shore want t' bring a crowd along when they tie into this yere outfit, now I'm tellin' yuh!” Lite Avery, who had gone prowling down the draw by himself, came back to camp, tilting stiff-leggedly along in his high-heeled boots and betraying, in every step he took, just how handicapped a cowpuncher is when set afoot upon the range and forced to walk where he has always been accustomed to ride. He stopped to give Pink's exhausted horse a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, and came on, grinning a little with the comers of his mouth tipped down. “Here's what's left of the hobbles the buckskin wore,” he said, holding up the cut loops of a figure-eight rope hobble. “Kinda speaks for itself, don't it?” They crowded around to inspect this plain evidence of stealing. Afterwards they stood hard-eyed and with a flush on their cheek-bones, considering what was the best and wisest way to meet this emergency. As to hunting afoot for their horses, the chance of success was almost too small to be considered at all, Pink's horse was not fit for further travel until he had rested. There was one pair of field glasses--and there were nine irate men to whom inaction was intolerable. “One thing we can do, if we have to,” Luck said at last, with the fighting look in his face which moving-picture people had cause to remember. “We can help ourselves to any horses we run across. Applehead, how's the best way to go about it?” Applehead, thus pushed into leadership, chewed his mustache and eyed the mesa sourly. “Well, seein' they've set us afoot, I calc'late we're jest about entitled to any dang thing we run across that's ridable,” he acceded. “'N' the way I'd do, would be to git on high groun' with them glasses 'n' look fer hosses. 'N' then head fer 'em 'n' round 'em up afoot 'n' rope out what we want. They's enough of us t' mebby git a mount apiece, but it shore ain't goin' t' be no snap, now I'm tellin' ye. 'N' if yuh do that,” he added, “yuh want t' leave a man er two in camp--'n' they want to keep their dang eyes peeled, lemme tell yuh! Ef we was t' find ourselves afoot an' our grub 'n' outfit stole--”