“He’s a fire-eater,” Tex agreed softly.
The other boys had ridden up and were looking at the trail. Cal spoke in his slow drawl.
“I passed up one shot an’ you can report it to the major if you want. I had a broadside at a black stud but jest couldn’t find my sights for watchin’ him tear into those mares.”
“That stud learned something here today that he won’t forget,” Tex said grimly.
“I’ll bet a month’s pay we don’t ever catch that bunch in a place like this again,” Shorty said.
The others grinned. They knew the stallion would be wiser and more wary now that he had met the guns of men. They were not sorry he had got away. Any horse that would lead a crazy charge down the face of a brush-matted cliff deserved a break and was no scrub. One of the others said:
“I caught a glimpse of him through the dust. He’d make any of the major’s blooded stuff look like a broom tail if they were stood up side by side. Can’t figure where such a hoss could have come from, must be a freak.”
Tex grinned but said nothing. He knew where the big black came from. As he moved away he remarked:
“I reckon he might have some good blood in him.”
A plan was forming in the mind of the range boss and he was eager to work it out. He wanted to be alone so that he could get it all ready. He turned to his men.