loop sailed out and settled over his neck. The dun stopped instantly and mournfully began to walk toward his captor. The other horses abandoned their game and gathered in one corner to pensively watch Pat lead the dun out and saddle him.
The dun bowed up in the middle and took a few springy jumps on stiff legs when Pat mounted. But Pat wasnât in a mood for further play, and he tightened the reins and roweled the horse lightly. The dun instantly relaxed and broke into a trot. Pat reined him down toward the bunkhouse. There wasnât any light in the house where the Lazy Mare hands slept, but Pat thought Pete and the others might have returned from town and gone to bed before he came back.
He pulled up outside the door and called, âPete,â lightly. He waited a moment but got no response. His features tightened and he turned to ride away from the ranch alone. He had a sort of plan that would be easier accomplished with some help, but he would have to go it alone. He knew there was no telling when the boys would be back. And they might refuse to ride with him if he waited. They all liked Ezra and were probably pretty disgusted with their boss after what he had done in town.
Pat let the fresh dun out into an easy lope and headed due south across the range. His ranch stretched a dozen miles to the south from headquarters, with one corner of it touching the Spangler ranch that Ezra had bought recently. From that corner it was another two miles to the closest boundary fence of the VX.
It was well past midnight: somewhere around about one-thirty, Pat figured, after squinting up at the moon and stars. There was no particular trail leading in the direction he was headed, and Pat guided the dun straight toward the Lazy Mare corner by instinct.
Pat used up an hour covering that first twelve miles, holding his mount down to a steady pace that left plenty of strength in reserve for the riding that would be required after the Lazy Mare boundary was reached. When he was less than a mile from the corner, Pat slowed to a dog-trot while he searched through the velvety moonlight for signs of Lazy Mare cattle ahead.
There was a little coulee near the corner that was rich in grass, and he thought he might find a bunch bedded down there. As he neared the coulee he decided he had better drive a few of those along to the fence-line and not take a chance on finding others closer. It would slow him up a little, but it would save time in the end if there werenât any others closer and he had to ride back to the coulee.
His hunch was right. There were ten or twelve two-year-old heifers sleeping in the lush grass, and they lifted their heads and stared at him in mild surprise when he checked his horse in front of them. They were well-fed and tame, and he had some difficulty rousing them and cutting out half a dozen to drive toward the fence corner.
They werenât used to being wakened like this for a night drive and were reluctant to leave the rich pasturage in the coulee, but the dun was an experienced cowhorse and with his help Pat got them moving ahead of him after only a few minutes of delay. They trotted along slowly and refused to be bullied into increasing their speed, and it took him almost half an hour to make that last half mile to the corner.
There was a gate in the wire fence at the corner, and Pat circled ahead just before they got there, rode his dun close to lean from the saddle and lift the wire loop holding the gate-stave tight to a post. He threw the gate open and loped back before the heifers had made up their minds to scatter, pushed them through the gate and closed it behind them, then continued the drive in a straight line for the VX fence-line two miles ahead.
The stars were beginning to pale in the sky overhead and the moon was sinking low toward the horizon when he reached his destination. He knew it must be nearly three oâclock, not long before day would break in the east.
There wasnât
The dun bowed up in the middle and took a few springy jumps on stiff legs when Pat mounted. But Pat wasnât in a mood for further play, and he tightened the reins and roweled the horse lightly. The dun instantly relaxed and broke into a trot. Pat reined him down toward the bunkhouse. There wasnât any light in the house where the Lazy Mare hands slept, but Pat thought Pete and the others might have returned from town and gone to bed before he came back.
He pulled up outside the door and called, âPete,â lightly. He waited a moment but got no response. His features tightened and he turned to ride away from the ranch alone. He had a sort of plan that would be easier accomplished with some help, but he would have to go it alone. He knew there was no telling when the boys would be back. And they might refuse to ride with him if he waited. They all liked Ezra and were probably pretty disgusted with their boss after what he had done in town.
Pat let the fresh dun out into an easy lope and headed due south across the range. His ranch stretched a dozen miles to the south from headquarters, with one corner of it touching the Spangler ranch that Ezra had bought recently. From that corner it was another two miles to the closest boundary fence of the VX.
It was well past midnight: somewhere around about one-thirty, Pat figured, after squinting up at the moon and stars. There was no particular trail leading in the direction he was headed, and Pat guided the dun straight toward the Lazy Mare corner by instinct.
Pat used up an hour covering that first twelve miles, holding his mount down to a steady pace that left plenty of strength in reserve for the riding that would be required after the Lazy Mare boundary was reached. When he was less than a mile from the corner, Pat slowed to a dog-trot while he searched through the velvety moonlight for signs of Lazy Mare cattle ahead.
There was a little coulee near the corner that was rich in grass, and he thought he might find a bunch bedded down there. As he neared the coulee he decided he had better drive a few of those along to the fence-line and not take a chance on finding others closer. It would slow him up a little, but it would save time in the end if there werenât any others closer and he had to ride back to the coulee.
His hunch was right. There were ten or twelve two-year-old heifers sleeping in the lush grass, and they lifted their heads and stared at him in mild surprise when he checked his horse in front of them. They were well-fed and tame, and he had some difficulty rousing them and cutting out half a dozen to drive toward the fence corner.
They werenât used to being wakened like this for a night drive and were reluctant to leave the rich pasturage in the coulee, but the dun was an experienced cowhorse and with his help Pat got them moving ahead of him after only a few minutes of delay. They trotted along slowly and refused to be bullied into increasing their speed, and it took him almost half an hour to make that last half mile to the corner.
There was a gate in the wire fence at the corner, and Pat circled ahead just before they got there, rode his dun close to lean from the saddle and lift the wire loop holding the gate-stave tight to a post. He threw the gate open and loped back before the heifers had made up their minds to scatter, pushed them through the gate and closed it behind them, then continued the drive in a straight line for the VX fence-line two miles ahead.
The stars were beginning to pale in the sky overhead and the moon was sinking low toward the horizon when he reached his destination. He knew it must be nearly three oâclock, not long before day would break in the east.
There wasnât
Similar Books
