"My father. I made him swear he'd wait. How's yo' buckskin?"
"Flagging."
"She'll live through all right. Don't you talk any mo'."
"You're losing hope?"
"There's allus hope," said Curly, "but them stars seem nearer to we-all."
They were riding through greasewood bushes and long grass, whilst here and there stood scattered trees of mesquite. That made bad going for horses, but, when they swung aside for better ground, they nearly blundered into an arroyo.
Only the dawn grey saved my boys from breaking both their necks in that deep gap, but now they had got to lose the sheltering darkness, their horses were mighty near finished, and three big outfits of riders were closing down all round them. Jim looked up the sky to see if there were miracles a-coming, for nothing less was going to be much use. Then the Naco people came whirling down on the right, and the black arroyo lay broad across their hopes, so they swung north to look for a crossing, and were thrown right out of the hunt.
Presently soon my youngsters had another big stroke of luck, because the Bisley crowd missed aim, and had to swing in behind with the men from Grave City.
"Jim," says Curly, "has they closed in yet?"
"Our wind is covering all three outfits now."