"Do you see anything?" asked the Professor anxiously.
"I don't know. I hope I do," answered the foreman, leaping into his saddle and putting spurs to his mount. "It may be some other herd crossing the state," he muttered, keeping his eyes fixed on the speck that was slowly developing into a miniature cloud.
The foreman urged his pony to its best pace, and, in the course of half an hour he was able to make out a herd of cattle. That was all he could tell about it. However, it was not long before he discovered a lone horseman working up and down the herd.
Stallings was in too great a hurry to use his glasses now. He was driving his pony straight at the yellow mark off there on the plain, without swerving or appearing to exert any pressure at all on the bridle rein.
"It's the Pinto, as I'm alive!" he breathed.
The horseman with the herd saw him now, and rising in his saddle, waved a hand at the foreman.
In a few moments Stallings came rushing up with a shout of joy.
