Far as Houck goes, an'
Bandy Walker, too, for that matter, I'll make you a present of the pair
of 'em as two sure-enough bad eggs. But they've got to play the hands
dealt 'em without knowin' what we're holdin'."

"They've prob'ly got rifles, an' we haven't."

"It's a cinch they've got rifles. But they won't dare use 'em. How do
they know we're playin' this alone? First off, I'll mention that I sent
Buck back to tell the boss we'd taken the trail after them. That puts it
up to them to act reasonable whether they want to or not. Another thing.
We surprise 'em. Give the birds no chance to talk it over. Not knowin'
what to do, they do nothing. Ain't that good psycho-ology, as Blister
says when he calls a busted flush?"

"Trouble is we're holdin' the busted flush."

"Sure, an' Houck'll figure we wouldn't 'a' trailed him unless we'd fixed
the play right beforehand. His horse sense will tell him we wouldn't go
that strong unless our cards was all blue. We're sittin' in the golden
chair. O' course we'll give the birds a chance to save their faces--make
it plain that we're a whole lot obliged to 'em for lookin' after Powder
River for us."

Bob's sagging head went up. He had remembered Blister's injunction. "All
right, Dud. Turn yore wolf loose. I'll ride along an' back the bluff."

They left the river and climbed to the mesa. The trail took them through
a rough country of sagebrush into the hills of greasewood and pinon. In
mid-afternoon they shot a couple of grouse scuttling through the bunch
grass. Now and again they started deer, but they were not looking for
meat. A brown bear peered at them from a thicket and went crashing away
with an awkward gait that carried it over the ground fast.

From a summit they saw before them a thin spiral of smoke rising out of
an arroyo.

"I reckon that's the end of the trail," Dud drawled. "We're real pleased
to meet up with you, Mr. Houck. Last time I had the pleasure was a sorta
special picnic in yore honor. You was ridin' a rail outa Bear Cat an'
being jounced up considerable."

"If he thinks of that--"

"He'll think of it," Dud cut in cheerfully. "He's gritted his teeth a lot
of times over that happenstance, Mr. Houck has. It tastes right bitter in
his mouth every time he recollects it. First off, soon as he sees us,
he'll figure that his enemies have been delivered into his hand. It'll be
up to us to change his mind. If you're all set, Sure-Shot, we'll drift
down an' start t