“Perhaps he broke out of some corral in the mountains, where the rustlers were keeping him penned up, and took the home trail on the gallop,” suggested Bob.
“Maybe,” Frank remarked. “Later on we’ll see if his brand has been altered, because that would tell the story. But turn off here, Bob, and let’s cover as much ground as we can. Have your gun handy; and if the wolf vamooses, give him a little start. Then we’ll have a bully gallop, and see who will be the first to nail him. Whoop! there’s something doing right now, Bob!”
CHAPTER II
ONE GRAY THIEF LESS
“There he goes; and it is a wolf, sure pop, Frank!” shouted Bob.
“And if you look close,” remarked his chum, “you’ll see that he wobbles just a little with that left hind leg of his. Reckon he got a thorn in his paw, or cut it on a sharp rock. After him, Bob!”
They gave the horses free rein. Both animals were comparatively fresh, and eager for a mad gallop over the open country that cool day in the Fall.
The steer did not seem to have sighted the fleeing wolf, or else must have decided that, with the two mounted boys in swift pursuit, there was little need of his exerting himself to overtake the hated enemy. At any rate he remained in the vicinity of the timber, as though bent on keeping the animal from again seeking refuge there.
“He’s heading for that swale near the rocky point; and if he reaches it we’ll have a hard time getting him!” exclaimed Bob, after a few minutes of racing.
“Don’t worry, he isn’t going to get there,” said Frank; “because we’re overhauling him right now. Look at him run! Lame or not, he can lope along as well as any wolf I ever chased. He knows he’s running for his life, the sly varmint. And he has hopes of giving us the slip.”
“I can see him look back every little while, Frank,” Bob remarked, as he bent low in the saddle, and felt his pulses thrill with the excitement of the chase. “What do you suppose he does that for?”