She was about to turn, for she had seen all she cared to see, when an impulse of curiosity urged her to crane her neck to attempt to peer around a shoulder of the cut where it doubled back. She started and turned pale, not so much from fright as with surprise, for she saw a horse's head projecting around the shoulder of the cut, and the animal was looking directly at her. As she drew back, her breath coming fast, the animal whinnied gently. Almost instantly, she heard a man's voice: "My cayuse is gettin' tired of loafin', I reckon." Ruth held her breath. The voice seemed to come from beneath her feet--she judged that it really had come from beneath the rock that projected from the wall of the cut below her. And it was Chavis' voice! Of course, he would not be talking to himself, and therefore there must be another man with him. At the risk of detection, and filled with an overwhelming curiosity to hear more she kneeled at the edge of the cut and listened intently, first making sure that the horse she had seen could not see her. "I reckon Linton didn't pull it off--or them Flyin' W guys are stickin' close to the herd," said another voice. "He ought to have been here an hour ago." "Linton ain't no rusher," said Chavis. "We'll wait." There was a silence. Then Chavis spoke again: "Flyin' W stock is particular easy to run off. Did I tell you? B---- told me"--Ruth did not catch the name, she thought it might have been Bennet, or Ben--"that the girl had give orders that anyone ketched runnin' off Flyin' W stock wasn't to be hung!" Ruth heard him chuckle. "Easy boss, eh, Kester?" He sneered. "Ketch that damned Flyin' W outfit hangin' anybody!" Kester was one of the men who had quit the day that Ruth had met Randerson, when the latter had been riding in for the money due them. It did not surprise Ruth to discover that Kester was with Chavis, for Randerson had told her what might be expected of him. Linton was the other man. Nor did it surprise Ruth to hear Chavis talking of stealing the Flying W stock. But it angered her to discover that her humane principles were being ridiculed; she was so incensed at Chavis that she felt she could remain to hear him no longer, and she got up, her face red, her eyes flashing, to go to her pony. But the pony was nowhere in sight. She remembered now, her heart sinking with a sudden, vague fear, that she had neglected to trail the reins over the animal's head, as she had been instructed to do by the puncher who had gentled the pony for her; he had told her that no western horse, broken by an experienced rider, would stray with a dragging rein.