“That’s another score in your favor, girl,” he said. “Maybe I’ll be able to repay you some day.”
Almost as suddenly as it had descended the storm broke and the sky cleared. The sun went down behind the Three Soldiers in a crimson aura of light and Slim and Lightning pressed on over ground that had hardly been dampened by the rain. They reached the line camp just at dusk and found the Double O and Box B riders getting ready for the night patrol. Slim swung out of the saddle as Joe and Nels hurried toward him.
“What luck?” asked Joe.
“Plenty,” replied Slim, “but first I’ve got to take care of Lightning and then get a little grub for myself. I’m starved.”
Half an hour later, with a plate of steaming food before him and the Double O and Box B riders grouped around, he related the events of the last few hours.
“I’ve suspected Hack Cook for some time,” said Joe Haines, hitching his gun belt higher when Slim told them that another shipment of stolen cattle was to be dispatched the next night.
“They’ve shipped the last of our cattle,” rumbled Nels, his hands shaking with rage. The other cowboys backed up his remarks with determined expressions.
“What’s the plan of action?” Joe asked Slim, for the young rider, by his resourcefulness, had become the acknowledged leader now in planning the campaign against the rustlers.
“I think we’d better hit the trail for Mopstick. Then swing south along the railroad and lay a trap for the rustlers. They’ll drive the cattle through the low pass in the Cajons and we’ll catch them red-handed. That will give us all of the evidence we’ll need.”
Nels nodded his approval and Joe looked around at the others.