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It was along in June last year I went up that way; there was nobody to go with me, an' I was forced to do it by myself for I had to go so I spunked up, saddled Bluefire, an' sloped.
One messenger, however, was speeding on his way to warn them of danger. This was the cowboy Crux, who had been despatched on Bluefire by Hunky Ben just before that sturdy scout had started to call out the cavalry at Quester Creek.
They kep' blazin' away all the time too, but never touched me, though I heard the balls whistlin' past for a good while. Bluefire an' me went, you bet, like a nor'-easter in a passion, an' at last they gave it up. No, stranger, take my advice an' don't go past Traitor's Trap alone. I wouldn't go there at all if I could help it." "I don't intend to go past it.
I suppose Buck was so took by surprise at a single man darin' to disobey his orders that he missed. Anyhow I socked spurs into Bluefire, an' made a break for the open country ahead. They made after me like locomotives wi' the safety-valves blocked, but Bluefire was more'n a match for 'em.
They had hardly reached and flung open the door when Bluefire came foaming and smoking into the yard with Crux the cow-boy on his back. "Wall, Roaring Bull," cried Crux, leaping off his horse and coming forward as quietly as if there were nothing the matter. "I'm glad to see you OK, for the Cheyenne Reds are on the war-path, an' makin' tracks for your ranch.
Are ye game for such a spin to-night?" The mare arched her glossy neck, put back both ears, and gave other indications that she would have fully appreciated the remarks of her master if she had only understood them. "Ah! Bluefire and I don't talk in that style," said Crux, with a laugh. "I give him his orders an' he knows that he's got to obey.
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