"It's him," grinned Loudon. "It's the little hoss. Well, fellah, you old tiger-eye!"
He rubbed the white spot on Ranger's nose. The horse nipped his fingers with soft lips.
"Found him tied to the post out back o' the wagon shed," volunteered the cook. "I thought I was seein' things."
"Funny he didn't whinner," said Loudon.
"There was a flour-sack over his head," explained the cook. "Here it is."
"That don't tell me nothin'," Loudon said. "Everybody uses Triple X. An' that hackamore could be just anybody's, too. Whoever brought him shore walked in the water."
"It ain't likely possible now," observed Jack Richie, "that Rufe Cutting could 'a' got religion or somethin'."
"It's possible, but it ain't likely," said Loudon. "Well, fellah, c'mon an' get yuh a drink, an' then for the big feed. Yo're gone off a good forty pounds since yuh quit me."
Later, Loudon, in company with Laguerre, visited the post where Ranger had been tied. Laguerre closely scrutinized the ground in the vicinity.
"Hoss she been tied up six-seven hour," observed Laguerre.