dle-bag. Then lifting the
saddle he carried it out of the yard, through the gate and across the
lane to the corrals. The wilder mustangs in the far corral began to kick
and snort, and those in the corral where Black Bolly was kept trooped
noisily to the bars. Bolly whinnied and thrust her black muzzle over the
fence. Hare placed a caressing hand on her while he waited listening
and watching. It was not unusual for the mustangs to get restless at any
time, and Hare was confident that this would pass without investigation.

Gradually the restless stampings and suspicious snortings ceased, and
Hare, letting down the bars, led Bolly out into the lane. It was the
work of a moment to saddle her; his bridle hung where he always kept it,
on the pommel, and with nimble fingers he shortened the several straps
to fit Bolly's head, and slipped the bit between her teeth. Then he put
up the bars of the gate.

Before mounting he stood a moment thinking coolly, deliberately
numbering the several necessities he must not forget--grain for Bolly,
food for himself, his Colt and Winchester, cartridges, canteen, matches,
knife. He inserted a hand into one of his saddle-bags expecting to find
some strips of meat. The bag was empty. He felt in the other one, and
under the grain he found what he sought. The canteen lay in the coil of
his lasso tied to the saddle, and its heavy canvas covering was damp
to his touch. With that he thrust the long Winchester into its
saddle-sheath, and swung his leg over the mustang.

The house of the Naabs was dark and still. The dying council-fire cast
flickering shadows under the black cottonwoods where the Navajos slept.
The faint breeze that rustled the leaves brought the low sullen roar of
the river.

Hare guided Bolly into the thick dust of the lane, laid the bridle
loosely on her neck for her to choose the trail, and silently rode out
into the lonely desert night.

XIX. UNLEASHED

HARE, listening breathlessly, rode on toward the gateway of the cliffs,
and when he had passed the corner of the wall he sighed in relief.
Spurring Bolly into a trot he rode forward with a strange elation. He
had slipped out of the oasis unheard, and it would be morning before
August Naab discovered his absence, perhaps longer before he divined his
purpose. Then Hare would have a long start. He thrilled with something
akin to fear when he pictured the old man's rage, and wondered what
change it would make in his pla