Page:The Cross Pull.pdf/222

 “Horses pulling out?’ Moran inquired, as he jerked a saddle from the log and threw it on the horse.

“Out of sight,” the other admitted. “I forgot it was my turn to wrangle.”

“I’ll save you a trip,” Moran offered. He walked with Flash to the point of the hill and pointed up the meadow.

“Horses! Horses!” he said. “Go get ’em, boy! Go bring ’em in.” He swung his arm and Flash raced away in the direction which he pointed out.

There were numerous horse tracks in the meadow but they all led one way. A quarter of a mile beyond, he found many spots where the long grass was mashed flat and he knew that after feeding they had bedded down here for a rest. One broad trail led away from here, heading straight up the meadow, and he followed it.

The men watched until he appeared but a swift-moving speck against the green. The pine clad hills closed in upon the ever narrowing valley until the timber pinched out the last slender tongue of open meadow. The speck vanished among the trees.

“There’s a game trail there that leads on up the