"Ain't ary one uh the three that travels like they bin a travelin'--'n' that
shore means something, now I'm tellin' yuh!" He straightened and stared
worriedly ahead of them again. "Uh course, they might a picked up fresh
horses," he admitted. "I calc'late they needed 'em bad enough, if they ain't
been grainin' their own on the trip."
"We didn't see any signs of their horses being turned loose anywhere along,"
Lite pointed out with a calm confidence that he was right.
Still, they followed the footprints even though they were beginning to admit
with perfect frankness their uneasiness. They were swinging gradually toward
one of those isolated bumps of red rockridges which you will find scattered at
random through certain parts of the southwest. Perhaps they held some faint
hope that what lay on the other side of the ridge would be more promising,
just as we all find ourselves building air-castles upon what lies just over
the horizon which divides present facts from future possibilities. Besides,
these flat-faced ledges frequently formed a sharp dividing line between barren
land and fertile, and the hoofprints led that way; so it was with a tacit
understanding that they would see what lay beyond the ridge that they rode
forward.
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