ly a little salt! All the
hosses except your big Nagger are played out. We're already in strange
country. An' you know what we've heerd of this an' all to the south.
It's all canyons, an' somewheres down there is thet awful canyon none of
our people ever seen. But we've heerd of it. An awful cut-up country."

He finished with a conviction that no one could say a word against the
common sense of his argument. Lin was silent, as if impressed.

Bill raised a strong, lean, brown hand in a forcible gesture. "We can't
ketch Wildfire!"

That seemed to him, evidently, a more convincing argument than his
comrade's.

"Bill is sure right, if I'm wrong, which I ain't," went on the other.
"Lin, we've trailed thet wild stallion for six weeks. Thet's the longest
chase he ever had. He's left his old range. He's cut out his band, an'
left them, one by one. We've tried every trick we know on him. An' he's
too smart for us. There's a hoss! Why, Lin, we're all but gone to the
dogs chasin' Wildfire. An' now I'm done, an' I'm glad of it."

There was another short silence, which presently Bill opened his lips to
break.

"Lin, it makes me sick to quit. I ain't denyin' thet for a long time
I've had hopes of ketchin' Wildfire. He's the grandest hoss I ever laid
eyes on. I reckon no man, onless he was an Arab, ever seen as good a
one. But now thet's neither here nor there. . . . We've got to hit the
back trail."

"Boys, I reckon I'll stick to Wildfire's tracks," said Lin, in the same
quiet tone.

Bill swore at him, and the other hunter grew excited and concerned.

"Lin Slone, are you gone plumb crazy over thet red hoss?"

"I--reckon," replied Slone. The working of his throat as he swallowed
could be plainly seen by his companions.

Bill looked at his ally as if to confirm some sudden understanding
between them. They took Slone's attitude gravely and they wagged their
heads doubtfully. . . . It was significant of the nature of riders that
they accepted his attitude and had consideration for his feelings. For
them the situation subtly changed. For weeks they had been three
wild-horse wranglers on a hard chase after a valuable stallion. They had
failed to get even close to him. They had gone to the limit of their
endurance and of the outfit, and it was time to turn back. But Slone had
conceived that strange and rare longing for a horse--a passion
understood, if not shared, by all riders. And they knew that he would
catch Wildfire or di