Elbert reached the distant camp at sundown, but full darkness had fallen, before the final thud of ponies on the range grass, and Slim’s voice called from outside the circle of firelight.
‘... if it ain’t Elber-r-rt!’
And big Cal rocked forward, taking him by both shoulders at once—one of those moments when Elbert wouldn’t have dared to use his voice.
‘What’s this I hear about a she race horse you’re ridin’?’ Slim asked.
Elbert pointed out toward his picket pin, and the two moved toward it. Mamie was led in toward the fire, and examined in all points, her owner being entirely overlooked for the time being.
‘Where did you say you come from?’ Slim asked severely.
‘San Forenso.’
‘Any more like that there?’
‘I didn’t see any.’
‘Somebody leavin’ the country?’