wn over-bold, or
else the pack started to do the business in spite of her, and she was
forced into the game."

"Well, shall we head for that elevation, and see what we can find?"
asked Bob, who was inclined to be a little impatient.

"Wait a bit. It would be ten times better if we could only track the
greedy pack direct; but that's a hard proposition, here on the open,"
Frank observed.

"Well, what can we do then?" his chum asked.

"Perhaps put it in the hands of the best trailer in Arizona," and with a
laugh Frank pointed off to the left.

The Kentucky boy turned his head in surprise, and then exclaimed:

"Old Hank Coombs, on his pony, as sure as anything! You knew he was
coming along all the while, and just kept mum. But I'm sure glad to see
the old cowman right now. And it may turn out to be a day of reckoning
for that cunning Sallie, and her half grown cubs."

The two lads waved their range hats, and sent out a salute that was
readily answered by the advancing cowman. Hank Coombs was indeed a
veteran in the cattle line, having been one of the very first to throw a
rope, and "mill" stampeding steers in Texas, and farther to the west.

He was an angular old fellow, grim looking in his greasy leather
"chaps;" but with a twinkle in his eyes that told of the spirit of fun
that had never been quenched by the passage of time.

"Howdy, boys," he called out, as he drew rein alongside the two lads.
"What's this here yer lookin' at? Another dead calf? No, I swan if it
ain't a yearling as has been pulled down now. Things seem t' be gittin'
t' a warm pass when sech doin' air allowed. Huh! an' it looks like
Sallie's work, too! That sly ole critter is goin' t' git t' the end of
her rope some fine day."

"Why not to-day, Hank?" demanded Frank, briskly.

The veteran grinned, as though he had half anticipated having such a
question asked.

"So, that's the way the wind blows, hey?" he remarked, slowly; and then
he nodded his small head approvingly. "Jest as you say, Frank, thar's no
time like the present t' do things. The hull pack hes been here, I see,
an' no matter how cunning old Sallie allers shows herself, a chain's
only as strong as th' weakest link. One of her cubs will sure leave
tracks we kin foller. All right, boys count on me t' back ye up. I'll go
wharever ye say, Frank."

"We'll follow the trail, if there is one," said Frank, instantly; "but
the chances are that's where we'll bring up," and he pointed with