inquisitive. The night herders would see it; they'd smell trouble;
and like as not the whole bilin' of 'em would come pryin' down here
by daylight. Guess they haven't heard about Foy or they'd be here now.
They're strong for Foy. Come on, you waddies!"

Mr. Pringle-With-the-Punch, squeezed, cramped, and muddy under the
trough, heard this supperless plan with displeasure; his hope had been
otherwise. He heard the sound of hurried mounting; from the thunder
of galloping hoofs it would seem that a goodly number of the posse had
come up to the specifications laid down by the old ranger.

The others clanked away, leaving their horses standing. The man
Robbins grumbled from saddle to saddle and gathered canteens. As he
filled them from the supply pipe directly above Mr. Pringle's head, he
set them on the ground within easy reach of Mr. Pringle's hand.
Acting on this hint Mr. Pringle's hand withdrew a canteen, quite
unostentatiously. An unnecessary precaution, as it turned out; Mr.
Robbins, having filled that batch, went to the horses farther down the
troughs to look for more canteens. So Pringle wriggled out with his
canteen, selected a horse, and rode quietly through the open gate.

"Going already?" called Robbins as he passed.

Secure under cover of darkness, Pringle answered in the voice of one
who, riding, eats:

"Yes, indeedy; I ain't no hawg. Wasn't much hungry nohow!"

Chapter V

At the foot of Little Thumb Butte a lengthening semicircle of fire
flared through the night. John Wesley Pringle swung far out on the
plain to circle round it.

"This takes time," he muttered to himself, "but at least I know where
not to go. That old rip-snorter sure put a spoke in my wheel! Looks
like Foy might see them lights and drift out away from this. But he
won't, I guess--they said his hidey-hole was right on top, and the
shoulder of the hill will hide the fires from him. Probably asleep,
anyhow, thinkin' he's safe. I slep' three hours this morning at the
Major's; but Foy he didn't sleep any. Even if he did leave, they'd
track him up in the morning and get him--and he knows it. Somebody's
goin' to be awfully annoyed when he misses this horse."

He could see the riders, dim-flitting as they passed between him and
the flames. Once he stopped to listen; he heard the remaining half
of the man-hunt leaving the ranch. They were riding hard. Thereafter
Pringle had no mercy on his horse. Ride as he might, those who
followe