They sneaked along for a few hundred yards when Zeb stopped and peered over the bank.
“I got it all figgered out, Ricky. Them jaspers never walked over to th’ party. It’s all of seven miles to th’ nearest cow-camp. I’m figgerin’ that they—look out! Git down low!”
“What yuh see?”
“Jist what I expected. Them jaspers done left their hosses over by that bunch of cottonwoods. Look! See it?”
“See what?”
“Come on, Ricky, and keep down low. They’ve left one feller over there with th’ hosses and, Ricky, he’s smokin’ uh real cigaret!”
“Uh cigaret,” murmured Ricky. “Mama mine, I’d spank uh female grizzly’s cub in th’ ol’ lady’s presence for one long drag on uh cigaret. Ouch—gol dang——”
“Sh-h-h-h!” sibilated Zeb.
“Aw—if you’d got yer knees in uh cactus patch you’d say sh-h-h-h-h!” retorted Ricky in an undertone.
They sneaked around behind the patch of cottonwoods and in behind the four horses. Those range-bred horses made no move except to nuzzle Ricky as he whispered—