They brought their mounts up to the camp and saddled them. Slim patted Lightning affectionately, talking to her as he drew the cinches tight.
“We’re going on another adventure, old girl,” he said softly, “and I’m counting on you to help me win. If we get in any tight spots, it may be up to you and your speed. How about it?”
If Lightning didn’t understand the exact words, she sensed that her master was praising her, and she tossed her head proudly.
Slim looked carefully at the places where Old Bill had applied the dye. There was no trace of the pigment and to all intents and purposes Lightning was simply another sorrel. True, she was a little larger and longer of leg than the average range horse, but not uncommon enough to attract unusual attention.
Chuck’s new mount was just a plain calico cayuse, a good sturdy horse with plenty of endurance and a good trail gait.
“Fixed on cash?” asked Old Bill.
“We’re supposed to be broke,” said Chuck.
“Sure enough, but I thought you might need a bit for emergencies.”
“I’ve got enough for that,” said the Circle Four cowboy and Slim added that he had sufficient cash to carry him along.
The sun was just topping the Cajons when they swung into their saddles and splashed across the noisy mountain stream. They reached Sky High trail and took the turn to the left, heading down for the valley. For an hour they rode steadily with Old Bill in the lead. Then they came to a fork in the trail and the cattleman halted.