brain along with his
medicines, he might have been in camp by now, ministering to Patsy
before it was too late to do anything. Without a doubt the boys were
scanning anxiously the ridge, confident that he would not fail them
though impatient for his coming. And here he sat helplessly upon a
hilltop under the stars, many miles from camp, with much medicine just
under his knee and a pocket crammed with an unknown, healing herb, as
useless after all his effort as he had been in camp when they could not
find the Three-H liniment.

Glory turned his head and regarded him gravely out of eyes near human
in their questioning, and Weary laid caressing hand upon his silvery
mane, grateful for the sense of companionship which it gave.

"You're sure a wise little nag." he said wistfully, and his voice
sounded strange in the great silence. "Maybe you can find 'em--and it
you can, I'll sure be grateful; you can paw the stars out uh high
heaven and I won't take my quirt off my saddle-horn; hope I may die if
I do!"

Glory stamped one white hoof and pointed both ears straight forward,
threw up his head and whinnied a shrill question into the night. Weary
hopefully urged him with his knees. Glory challenged once again and
struck out eagerly, galloping lightly in spite of the miles he had
covered. Far back on the bench-land came faint answer to his call, and
Weary laughed from sheer relief. By the stars the night was yet young,
and he grew hopeful--almost complacent.

Glory planted both forefeet deep in the prairie sod and skidded on the
brink of a deep cut-bank. It was a close shave, such as comes often to
those who ride the range by night. Weary looked down into blackness
and then across into gloom. The place was too deep and sheer to ride
into, and too wide to jump; clearly, they must go around it.

Going around a gulley is not always the simple thing it sounds,
especially when one is not sure as to the direction it takes. To find
the head under such conditions requires time.

Weary thought he knew the place and turned north secure in the belief
that the gulley ran south into the coulee he had that evening
fruitlessly explored. As a matter of fact it opened into a coulee
north of them, and in that direction it grew always deeper and more
impassable even by daylight.

On a dark night, with only the stars to guide one and to accentuate the
darkness, such a discovery brings with it confusion of locality. Weary
drew u