“Look here, Slim,” cried Chuck. “One of the rustlers, the guy that took a shot at the boss, rode right into our own corral last night. Here’s his tracks going in, but there’s none coming out.”
Slim looked down at the hoofprint to which Chuck pointed. There was the telltale V-shaped mark.
Chapter Seventeen
The Night Alarm
There was no mistaking the V-shaped nick. It was clearly outlined in the dust and Slim stooped to look at it closely.
“Kind of looks like the mysterious rider was the guy who roped me around the neck and then left me down by the creek to hear the crickets sing,” he said.
“Maybe he was trying to get another shot at the boss,” said Walt Kelly.
“If he was, he wouldn’t have ridden right into our corral. Anyway, there’re no marks like this one coming out,” Chuck pointed out.
Slim sat back on his heels, puzzled at the turn of events, while Chuck ambled into the corral. A minute later he shouted for them to join him and they hurried inside.
Chuck was looking at his own horse but as they approached he pointed at the dust.
“My gosh, fellows, my own horse has that V-shaped mark on his left rear shoe!”