“Come on, then.”
“But what’ll I do with Stone Fence?” blurted out Dig.
“Say, boy!” said Chet shortly, “this is the parting of the ways for you and that red dogy. You’ve had your fun. Now this is business.”
“Have I got to decide between a perfectly good yearling calf and a possible buffalo? Seems a hard case,” groaned Dig. “I bet I could sell him for five dollars.”
“We’ve got to turn back a little on our trail to follow those beasts yonder,” Chet said. “It’s likely we’ll hit the trail again about here. Turn Stone Fence loose down in this sandy bottom. There’s enough grass to feed him a year and I see a trickle of water yonder. He’ll be all right. If he’s learned to love you, Dig, he’ll be waiting for you when we return.”
“I’ll do just that,” cried Dig eagerly, and he urged the obstinate maverick down the slope.
He was back in ten minutes after abandoning the surprised calf at the foot of the bluff. The creature gazed after his human companions and the horses with plain surprise in his bovine countenance.
Finally, as Dig and the black horse surmounted the rise, Stone Fence spread all four of his legs and blatted after him like a cosset calf.
“What do you know about that? I hate to leave him in the lurch,” declared Dig. “Some beast’ll get him, sure as shooting, Chet.”
“He was exempt from trouble long before you met him, Dig,” said Chet, smiling. “I’m not sure that he considers you, even yet, his guardian angel.”