Gradually the hills assumed more shape, and they could even make out the trees that covered their sides in most quarters.
“That dark place ahead must be the coulie opening,” Ned suggested.
“Just what it is,” replied the lanky rider, “You foller it up a ways and all of a sudden-like you drop in on one of the finest little valleys that cattle ever nosed about in, knee-high in grass that ain’t the buffalo stripe neither, and with a fine spring that sends its water down the hull place. We ain’t got anythin’ ekal to it for a harbor for cattle this side o’ the Colorado. That’s why we turned our prize herd in here, to pick up a little fat before the Kunnel he ships the same off to a show.”
That was quite a long talk for Chunky to make. He was a man of few words as a rule and bit his sentences off as though it pained him to run on for any great length of time.
Ned understood. And he was glad that he had come with the man who was now temporarily in charge of Double Cross Ranch. Where Chunky happened to be things were more apt to take place than elsewhere.
Now it was very likely that the waiting rustlers must have known all about this unusually fine herd. Even if they had failed to locate it on their own account, while galloping around the country, Ally Sloper would have put them wise.
If they were figuring on making way with any portion of the Double Cross property shortly, it stood to reason that they would turn their attention first of all to this valuable drove.
The moon had risen above the horizon and was pouring a flood of light upon the scene. Ned could not remember when it had appeared more radiant. He fancied that they would have very little trouble in making the round-up and drive, if only nothing happened to break up their well laid plans.
No doubt when they had arrived at the bottom of the coulie Chunky would order a short halt, in order to let the ponies get their wind again. And during that time they could be using their ears to catch any sounds that might come from up the gully, such as the mooing of cows that had calves, the bellowing of a bull, or the clashing as horns beat against horns in a fierce fight for possession.
Sloper was still in line. He had not turned his face once toward Chunky since starting from the ranch, and it was natural that he should be laboring under a high tension, possibly arranging scheme after scheme, only to cast them away when he discovered weak points.