“Want people to think you’re a baby, Bob Archer?” he would mutter, as he took a firmer grip on the bridle, and shook it to let Domino know he was awake to the occasion. “As long as Frank can stand it, you should; and you’ve just got to; hear that?”
The darkness had settled down all around them in earnest now. Bob was unable to see anything ahead beyond the forms of his two comrades, separated by some thirty feet.
Far off he could make out the tops of the mountains, outlined blackly against the cloudy heavens; but on the plain itself all was a pall of darkness.
One thing gave Bob considerable uneasiness. He feared that they might have the bad luck to run foul of a prairie dog village, such as could be occasionally found on these level stretches of the plains. Stories of horses having their legs broken by stepping into such a burrow, while going at top speed, had been common among the cow punchers of Circle Ranch; and Bob had often dreaded lest Domino meet that fate some unfortunate day or night.
That was really one reason why he lagged behind, so that if trouble came to his comrades he might have ample warning, and check the progress of his horse in time. There was no need of sacrificing Domino without anything to gain by it; and Bob could be a little selfish on account of his horse, where he would scorn to adopt safe measures for himself.
Once or twice Bob fancied he caught some sound in the distance. On second thought, however, he realized that it could not possibly come from those they followed. The soft ground would prevent the beat of their horses’ hoofs being heard any distance; and they were still undoubtedly far away.
Bob, changing his mind about keeping at such a distance in the rear, urged Domino to shorten the gap; for he was getting lonely and wished to have an occasional word with his chum.
“About how long can we keep up this going, Frank?” he questioned, as soon as he had arrived within speaking distance of the leading pair.
“Don’t know,” answered the one addressed; “that depends on how our horses hold out. Does Domino show any signs of lagging, Bob?”
“Well, he must be tired, after such a long day’s trip, and then this gallop thrown in for good measure,” replied Bob; “but he’s got the grit to keep along with the rest. Honest now, Frank, it wouldn’t surprise me if Mr. Riley’s big bay was the first to show signs of distress.”