"'Course you wouldn't be. But this is a kind of 'good-bye,' too. I was going to ask you to mail this letter to Overland Red. I told him in it that I was coming."
"We are sorry that you are leaving," said Louise. "Uncle Walter said you had spoken to him."
"It isn't the money. I could wait. But I don't feel like taking all that money and not doing anything for it. I guess Red needs me, too. Brand says I'm a fool to quit here now. Mebby I am. I like it here; the work and everything."
Saunders, watching them, saw Collie give Louise a letter. He saw her tuck it in her waist and rein Boyar round toward the gate.
As Collie came toward the corrals he noticed that Saunders had saddled the pinto Rally. He was a little surprised. Rally was Walter Stone's favorite saddle-horse and used by none but him. He knew his employer was absent. Perhaps Saunders had instructions to bring Rally to the station.
Collie paid no further attention to Saunders until the latter came from his quarters with a coat and a blanket-roll which he tied to the saddle. Then Collie became interested. He left the road and climbed the hill back of the corrals. He watched Saunders astride the pinto as he opened the gate and spurred through without closing it. That was a little unusual.
"I feel almost like taking a cayuse and following him," muttered Collie. "But, no. What for, anyway?"
On a rise far below was Black Boyar, loping along easily. Collie saw him stop and turn into the Old Meadow Trail. He watched for Saunders to appear on the road below the ranch. Presently out from the shoulder of a hill leaped Rally. Saunders was plying quirt and spur. The pinto was doing his best.
"Something's wrong. I'll just take a chance." And Collie ran to the corral and roped the Yuma colt. He saddled her, led her a few steps that she might become used to the feel of the cinchas, and then mounted. He turned the pony up the hill and sat watching the pinto on the road below. He saw Saunders draw rein and dismount, apparently searching the road for something. Then he saw him mount quickly and disappear on the Old Meadow Trail.
Collie whirled the pony round and down the hill. Through the gateway he thundered. The steel-sinewed flanks stiffened and relaxed rhythmically as the hillside flew past. The Yuma colt, half-wild, ran with great leaps that ate into space. They swept through the first ford. A thin sheet of water spread on either side of them. The outlaw fought the curb all the way up the hill beyond. Pebbles clattered from her hoofs and spun skyward as she raced along the level of the hilltop.