These yere tracks, they don't
size up the same as they done all the way out here. 'N' another thing, they
ain't aimed t' meet up with the bunch that Luck's trailin'. We're headed
straight out away from whar Luck's headed. 'N' any way yuh look at it, we're
headed into country whar there ain't no more water'n what the rich man got in
hell. What would any uh Ramon's outfit want to come away off in here fur? They
ain't nothin' up in here to call 'em."
"These, said Lite suddenly, "are different horse-tracks. They're smaller, for
one thing. The bunch we followed out from the red machine rode bigger horses."
"And carried honey on one side and fresh meat on the other; and one horse was
blind in the right eye," enlarged Pink banteringly, remembering the story of
the Careful Observer in an old schoolreader of his childhood days.
"Yes, how do you make that out, Lite? I never noticed any difference in the
tracks."
"The stride is a little shorter today for one thing." Lite looked around and
grinned at Pink, as though he too remembered the dromedary loaded with honey
and meat. "Ain't it, Applehead?"
"It shore is," Applehead testified, his face bent toward the hot ground.
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