“Can’t tell you that, Dad,” Teddy replied. He turned to Roy. “Now are you so sure that we’ll never see Marino again? He’s around here somewhere, I’ll bet a plugged nickel! Maybe he got thrown. If it wasn’t so dark we could have a look for him.” “By golly, it’s the pinto!” Pop exclaimed, riding up. “Where’d he come from, Teddy? I saw that horse out yonder, but I didn’t pay no attention to him. Thought he had a man with him. The pinto! The Pup must have followed up the river from the time we saw him! Snakes! wonder if he’s around?” “That bronc of yours is a good watch dog,” Roy declared to Nat. “It was this horse he sensed, and the lowlands had nothin’ to do with it. Pop, you’re all twisted. Nat’s pony was calling in this pinto.” “Meybe,” Pop agreed doubtfully. “I ain’t sayin’ nothin’. Well, boss, do we camp? We can picket this hoss and come back for him later. He’ll stand, I reckon.” “Won’t do much wanderin’ with his leg like that,” Bug Eye remarked. It was practically the first sentence he had uttered since they had left Jake Trummer’s place. “He’s got a sore there that seems as if it might have been made some time ago.” “It was,” Teddy remarked laconically. “I brought Roy in to look at it the night he was stolen. That’s how I found he was gone. Wherever The Pup is, he’s on foot. Unless he got thrown, and is lying hurt somewhere.” “And alone,” added Roy, with a note of pity in his voice. The uselessness of attempting to find Marino in the dark was apparent to all, and, leaving the knoll on which he stood, Mr. Manley rode forward until he and Jake Trummer came to a spot which bordered on a group of trees. “We can pitch camp here,” Mr. Trummer suggested. “There’s a spring in them trees, good an’ cold. In the mornin’ we can start at sun-up, and then, by golly, we’ll run them rustlers to earth. They don’t know we’re comin’, but they’ll learn soon enough. Tryin’ to lay the blame on me fer the cattle bein’ gone! Huh, I’m kinda anxious to meet Denver Smith an’ his gang!” The horses were picketed some distance from the camping spot, a fire was built and blankets were unrolled. The night was cold, and the men huddled as closely as possible to the blaze, wrapped tightly in their thick coverings. The heavens were entirely obscured by clouds, and beyond the fire a blackness, like heavy velvet, covered the land. Supper was soon concluded, for the party was “traveling light.” But three men had been told to carry rations, and, consequently, there was hardly enough from which to make a feast. But beans and bacon are filling, and no one went actually hungry. There was little talk after supper. The finding of The Pup’s pony was commented upon, and guesses were hazarded concerning the whereabouts of Marino, but that was all. The men were tired, and tired men waste no time in idle talk. Definitely and directly they go to sleep.