“I’m aimin’ to tie ’em on Catapult’s hooves so he won’t leave no tracks,” explained Lefty.
“Ain’t that the dizziest idear any sane guy ever had?” demanded Alkali. “How we goin’ to get gunnysacks on Catapult? Maybe you think he’ll just hold up his feet nice an’ purty like he was in a shoe shop!”
“Now see here,” Lefty said sharply. “Are you with me or ain’t you?”
“Oh, I’m with you all right,” drawled Alkali, “but my doubts sure are percolatin’.”
All was still about the Bradshaw Ranch as the three rode quietly into the mountain meadow. No lights were burning in the house.
Connie and the two cowboys tied their horses to a clump of cottonwood trees. Lefty removed the gunnysacks from his saddle and Alkali threw a coil of rope over his shoulder.
“It may not be easy to find Catapult,” Connie whispered. “This is a big meadow.”
“Yeah,” Alkali added, “he’s apt to be roostin’ in any one of these thousand acres.”
“I figure Catapult will be parked by the lake for the night after this blisterin’ hot day,” said Lefty. “That old uncanned baloney has more sense than his owner.”
After a brisk walk the three approached the lake. From that point they moved cautiously, crawling forward until they reached the bank. Lefty pulled aside a clump of overhanging tree branches and looked out over the moonlit water. A dark blot appeared at the opposite end of the lake and Lefty’s excited fancy envisioned it as a life-sized steer.