CHAPTER XVIII
CUTTING TRAIL
Kate Cullison had disappeared, had gone out riding one morning and at nightfall had not returned. As the hours passed, anxiety at the Circle C became greater.
“Mebbe she got lost,” Bob suggested.
Her father scouted this as absurd. “Lost nothing. You couldn’t lose her within forty miles of the ranch. She knows this country like a cow does the range. And say she was lost—all she would have to do would be to give that pinto his head and he’d hit a bee line for home. No, nor she ain’t had an accident either, unless it included the pony too.”
“You don’t reckon a cougar——,” began Sweeney, and stopped.
Luck looked at his bandy-legged old rider with eyes in which little cold devils sparkled. “A human cougar, I’ll bet. This time I’ll take his hide off inch by inch while he’s still living.”
“You thinking of Fendrick?” asked Sam.
“You’ve said it.”