“No thanks, Roy. I’ll make it.” The strap was quickly adjusted, and Teddy vaulted into the saddle.
The others were mounting now, and the party soon started to move forward. Mr. Manley and Jake Trummer were leading, while Teddy, Roy and Jules Kolto, the latter seeming like a new man after his sleep, followed directly behind. The rest rode along in the rear. Kolto was astride the pinto he had stolen, but now he sat with his head held firmly and his chin thrust forward. He was a hunted thief no longer, but a man.
Down toward the river the line of riders swept. They came fast and silently. In the crook of each right arm rested a rifle. On every face was a look of fixed determination.
The sun was high when the leaders held up cautioning hands, and the column of horsemen stopped suddenly.
“There’s a bunch of cows just ahead,” Mr. Manley said tensely. “Can’t tell yet if they’re ours, but I think they are. Now ride slow an’ easy. We’ll come up careful an’ have a look.”
Once more the riders started forward, this time spread further apart, so that they came upon the cattle from different directions. Pop was the first to single out a cow and look at her brand. Then he rode swiftly toward Teddy and Roy, who were nearest.
“They’re ours, boys!” he yelled. “I spotted the ole X Bar X brand in a minute! When I invented that, long ago, I figgered it would be easy to see at a distance! Yep, boys, they’re here!”
“Tell dad!” Roy called. “Teddy, we’ll ride around them and see where his dis-honor, Denver Smith, is!”
Spurring their ponies forward, the two boys flashed over the ground, making a wide circle around the milling cattle.
“Looks like the cows are all safe!” Teddy yelled as he sped along. “Now for Denver Smith!”