“If I had yore imagination, Dud—”
“Straight goods. See here where the loop of the rope dragged along the top of the mud after the fellow missed his throw.”
Bob saw the evidence after it had been pointed out to him. “But that don’t prove he got Powder River next time he threw,” he protested.
“Here’s where that’s proved.” Dud showed him the impressions of two hoofs dug deep into the ground. “Powder River bucked after he was roped an’ tried to break away. The other horse, like any good cowpony does, leaned back on the rope an’ dug a toe-hold.”
“Where’s Houck going?”
“Brown’s Park likely, from the way they’re headed.”
“What’ll we do?”
“Why, drap in on them to-night kinda casual an’ say ‘Much obliged for roundin’ up our stray bronc for us.’”
This programme did not appeal to Bob. In that camp were two enemies of his. Both of them also hated Dud. Houck and Walker were vindictive. It was not likely either of them would forget what they owed these two young fellows.
“Maybe we’d better ride back an’ tell the boss first,” he suggested.