The Long Dim Trail

A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York
Published by arrangement with Alfred A. Knopf
COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY FORRESTINE COOPER HOOKER
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO MY FATHER, BRIGADIER-GENERAL CHARLES L. COOPER, U. S. A. MY BROTHER, MAJOR HARRY L. COOPER, U. S. A. AND MY UNCLE, CAPTAIN LOUIS R. CHESTER. U. S. N. OFFICERS AND GENTLEMEN. WITHOUT FEAR AND WITHOUT REPROACH
F. C. H.
Everything all right, Limber? asked Allan Traynor, boss of the Diamond H ranch, as a cowboy with jingling spurs reined his pony before the closed gates of the corral.
Doctor Powell, standing beside Traynor, scrutinized the rider, whose broad-brimmed Stetson, caught by the wind, flapped from his face, exposing the sun-brown skin, firm chin and grey eyes. It needed no student of psychology to decide that Limber was not a man who would flinch when facing a six-shooter held by a rustler.
The cowboy nodded answer to Traynor's query. Limber's eyes scanned the herd, then, satisfied, he leaned across the neck of his pinto pony, and said, Paddy Lafferty wants to sell out.
Who told you? Traynor spoke with undisguised surprise.
Dillon. Paddy tol' him he was gettin' too old, that the rheumatiz is botherin' again, an' he's goin' to quit because he won't trust no one to run his herd when he can't get 'round to it hisself.
Did Paddy say how much he wanted?