"Wall, I'll be damned!" muttered Turley. Then he snorted. "Ain't ye got
no sense, ye Root Digger? Everybody in th' train'll know them hosses!"

"We swapped 'em at Bent's rancho on th' Vermajo--good gosh! Two o' 'em
come from them Texans!"

"They didn't have no brands," said Tom. "I heard 'em say somethin' about
gettin' some at Bent's. We got ter risk it, anyhow. It'll be like addin'
a spoonful o' freight ter a wagon load."

Hank's mind was running in a groove that he had been gouging deeper and
longer hour after hour and he refused to be sidetracked by any question
concerning the horses they had changed. "We want ter swap hosses ag'in
an' borry some rags fer clothes; an' before daylight, too."

Tom arose on one elbow. "That's all right, fur's it goes; only it don't
go no-whar," he declared. "We want ter git rid o' these hosses, an' we
want th' clothes; but that ain't all. We want a job, Turley. Need any
mule wranglers ter take some freight inter Santer Fe?"

"Day after tomorrow," answered Turley. "We got ter git rid o' these
animals afore then, ye got ter git shet o' 'em afore mornin'. I'll send
Jacques out ter take 'em away as soon as I go back ter th' house. Arter
he leaves with 'em I'll bring ye some ol' clothes so ye'll look a little
different from them four fools that swapped hosses at Bent's rancho. Th'
peon up thar won't git away, nor mebby see nobody fer weeks; but we
better take th' pelt afore th' meat spiles under it. I got some hosses
th' Utes stole from th' 'Rapahoes. We stole 'em from th' Utes. They
ain't marked, an' they ain't knowed down in th' valley."

"But we'll still be four," commented Tom, thoughtfully.

"That's shore a plain trail," said Jim Ogden. "Here: You an' Hank take a
mule apiece an' go back th' way we come, fur a spell. Me an' Zeb kin
freight whiskey with Turley's _atejo_, an' meet ye along th' trail
some'rs, or in Santer Fe, at th' warehouse. Ye kin load yer mules with
faggots ter be sold in town, an' tag onter our mule train fer society
an' pertection. Yer rifles kin be hid under th' faggots."

"We'll be unpackin' th' mules noon an' night," replied Tom. "How 'bout
our rifles then?"

"Can't be did," grunted Hank.

"We got ter risk that peon seein' anybody ter talk to," said Tom.
"Anyhow, 'tain't nothin' unusual fer him ter see fellers from th' fort.
We'll go on with th' _atejo_, after we make a few changes in our
clothes, an' ride Turley's hosses 'stead o' Bent's. But we can't