"Reckon not; yo're as wise as a jackass, a dead one," said Luke. "You stubborn fool, listen to this; 'Don't look for no word from me. I'm goin' west, to try it from back of Twin Buttes. They've drove me out.'" The voice was plainer now. "How many of 'em are out here?" Johnny grinned suddenly, for in the increase in the power of the voice he recognized a friend. "Hello, Luke, you old skunk!" he called, laughing. "Glad to see you. There's four been hangin' around but there's only two now, or three at th' most. Look out for 'em. Goin' to try to come up?" "No, not a-tall," replied Luke. "There's enough of our outfit up there now. I only found two of th' thieves, but th' third may be hid som'ers well back, 'though I've shore hunted a-plenty." "Found two?" "Yep; one down here, an' t'other up there. Colonel Bowie pushed 'em over th' Divide. Comin' down?" "When that fire's out." "How'd they come to drive you up there?" "I come up myself. Couldn't watch while I slept; an' I had to sleep. Now that there's two of us it's all right." "You called th' turn. Get yore traps together an' I'll fix th' fire. Where's yore cayuse?" "Up here. Don't bother with th' fire. Be right down." Half an hour later Johnny reached the bottom of the trail and paused. "'Red's pants,'" said a humorous voice. "Come on, Luke. We'll hold up somewhere an' get th' relief shift when it comes out from th' ranch." "Shore. Where's th' ranch?" "'Bout three miles west; an' it's a cussed fine one, too." "All right; get movin'. I want to dry out these pants. They must be all cotton from th' way they feel. We'll go back a ways an' start a fire." "No, we won't; too dangerous," growled Johnny decidedly. "We got this game won right now if we don't let 'em know there's two of us." Luke grinned in the dark. "Suits me. You wait here a minute," he said, disappearing. When he returned he grunted with keen satisfaction, for Fleming's trousers felt snug and warm. "How many are left?" he asked, leading the way toward his hidden pack. "Quigley, Purdy, Gates, an' th' cook." "Them names don't surprise me," grunted Luke. "How'd you get so wet?" "Swimmin'," growled Luke. "Yore shirt feels dry." "It is, around th' shoulders; but th' tail feels like th' devil. But it's wool, all through." "Was you trailin' Ackerman an' Long Pete?" "Nope; didn't trail nobody a-tall. How many cows they got?" "Plenty, d--n 'em!" growled Johnny. "What you been doin' up here all this time; an' how many have you got?" "Three; I've been busy." "Why, you had time to get 'em all." "Didn't dare do any shootin' till I had to," replied Johnny. "Didn't want 'em to know I was up here. A gun makes a lot of noise." Luke chuckled grimly. "Shore! That's what I _allus_ said; an' that's why I use Colonel Bowie. He don't even whisper." Johnny snorted with disgust. "Huh! I ain't knifin' or shootin' from ambush. There's _some_ things I won't do!"