This was true, as during the fire-fighting the ponies of the Bar U ranch had been able to rest. Now they were fresh for the chase that was on. And a fierce chase it was.
Setting a prairie fire, when the person who did it could not but know it would eat its way toward a bunch of cattle, was a crime not far from horse stealing, than which there is no blacker offense in the West, where a man's life depends on his horse. And the person who was riding thus desperately away must have known, or at least feared, that quick vengeance would be dealt out to him.
"Th' skunk!" muttered Pete, as he and the others swept on. "Th' mean, onery skunk!"
Up came the sun from below the horizon, shining red in the smoke-filled air—red and dim, like some great balloon. The morning was hot with the heat of the fire, and it would soon be warmer and more depressing from the heat of the sun's rays.
"It's a good thing dad has his cattle where there's some water for them," said Dave.
"Yes," agreed Pete. "There isn't much, but it's better than being over at the other place, where Molick and his crowd can cut us off altogether."
"If worst comes to worst, and he's built up that dam again," said the engineer, "we'll go and tear it down once more."
"That's what we will," Pete said. "I'm not going to lose the cattle for want of some water, when we saved 'em from the fire."
Dave was about to make a remark, when he gave a cry of surprise instead.
"What's up?" asked Pete.