"When we get back we ought to round the cattle up and count."
"That's ther only way ter do it. I've got a pretty good eye fer a herd, an' it's my idee thet we're losers here, an' that ther rustlers is gittin' rich off'n us."
About noon Bud pulled in his horse, and examined the snowy ground carefully.
He had struck a trail.
Winding across the prairie in a northeasterly direction was a broad trail, the tracks of many cattle and horses.
"Here we are," said Bud. "Thar's whar some o' our cattle and several ponies have passed."
He got down to the ground, and, stooping over the trail, regarded it carefully.
Suddenly he straightened up.
"This is not an Injun trail," he said.
"It isn't?" asked Stella.