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His gaze swept across the prairie to where, half a mile away, a bunch of Shoe-Bar cattle grazed peacefully. If this sick beast should get amongst them, the yearlings at least, to whom the disease is fatal, would be dying like flies in twenty-four hours. Buck glanced back at the steer again, and as he noted the T-T brand, his face hardened and he began taking down his rope.
Archer clenched her small hands and fought bravely for self-control. "He said he he might be delayed. He didn't dare take the road through Perilla, and the trail through the mountains was probably blocked by the sheriff." Her forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. "He said the only way was to to go through the pass and turn south along the edge of the T-T land. That that was all."
But presently, as the rising sun, gilding the peaks that towered above her, emphasized the utter emptiness of those sweeping pastures, the light died out of her eyes and she remembered with a sinking heart the blackleg scourge which had so recently afflicted the T-T outfit.
Instead of riding fence, the two punchers must have made their roundabout way immediately to the stricken T-T ranch, secured in some manner an infected yearling and brought it back through the twisting mountain trail Bud had spoken of a few days before. Lynch's was the directing spirit, of course; for none of the others would dare act save under his orders. But what was his object?
The senators therefore S, S-S, S are coming from the upper end of their seats H, H-H, H to the side urns L, L. The senators T T-T are drawing. The senator V has drawn a gold ball at his side urn, and is going to the middle urn F, where the senator W, having done the like at the other side urn, is already drawing.
He knew of only one pass through the mountains to T-T ground, and for this he headed, convinced that it was also Lynch's goal, and praying fervently that the scoundrel might not change his mind. He was under no delusions as to the task which lay before him. Lynch would be somewhat handicapped by the presence of the girl, especially if he continued to lead her horse.
Buck shot a glance at Jessup. "The north pasture!" he muttered. "He knows there'll be no one around there, and it'll be the safest way to reach the T-T trail. I'll saddle a fresh cayuse and be off." He turned to Mrs. Archer. "Don't you worry," he said, with a momentary touch on her shoulder that was at once a caress and an assurance. "I'll bring her back." "You must!" she cried.
"Best thing I can do is to head for that trail Bud spoke of that cuts through to the T-T ranch. It can't be so very far north." It wasn't, as the crow flies, but Buck was no aviator.
From somewhere amongst the rocks the long-drawn, quavering howl of a coyote sounded mournfully. The same dawn unrolled before the eyes of a man and a girl, riding southward along the ragged margin of the T-T ranch. Westward stretched the wide, rolling range-land, empty at the moment of any signs of life.
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