“There’s Injun enough in you, girl, to make horse-stealin’ all the same as breathin’. You jump in with me on this deal and see how easy you lose that sull. Don’t you ever have a feelin’ take holt of you that you want to do something onery—steal something, mix with somebody? I do. I’ve had that notorious feelin’ workin’ on me strong for days now, and I’ve got to get rid of it. If you’ll come in on this, we’ll have the excitement and make a stake, too. Talk up, girl—show your sand! Be game!”
“What horses do you aim to steal?”
“Reservation horses. Say, the way I can burn their brands and fan ’em over the line won’t trouble me. I’ll come back with a wad—me, Smith—and I’ll whack up even. What do you say?”
“What for a hand do I take in it?”
A smile of triumph lifted the corners of Smith’s mouth.
“You gather ’em up and run ’em into a coulee, that’s all. I’ll do the rest.”
“What do you want me to do it for?”
“Nobody’d think anything of it if they saw you runnin’ horses, because you’re always doin’ it; but they’d notice me.”
“Where’s the coulee?”
“I’ve picked it. I located my plant long ago. I’ve found the best spot in the State to make a plant.”