Cleve and Musical did not wait for any further information, but raced for the stable.
“Where are they?” asked Big Medicine anxiously.
“They cut the Greenhorn road near Smoky Cañon,” panted Ike. “Olsen had been to Greenhorn and seen ’em on his way back. He said he couldn’t swear that it was Tumbling H cattle, but there ain’t no other brand in that range.”
“Heading for the border?” asked McGurk.
“Yeah.”
Hashknife and Sleepy raced for the stable, while Big Medicine went into the house. They saddled Big Medicine’s horse and joined him at the front steps, where he was examining three rifles. It was not more than ten minutes after Ike’s arrival until the seven men were riding away from the ranch-house, while a hot supper went to waste.
They swung to the west of Pinnacle and struck the road near where the three men and the packed horse had left it. About halfway to the summit the road branched. Big Medicine drew up for a consultation. It was about three miles from there to where the road swung in around the head of Smoky Cañon.
“What’s the best bet?” asked Hashknife.
“There’s no use going to Smoky Cañon,” declared Big Medicine. “The cattle were passing there, and must be a long ways from there now. Unless I’m mistaken, they are heading for the border near the Rancho Sierra.”
“Then let’s try and cut them off,” suggested McGurk.