"
Louise whistled Boyar to her and bridled him. The little group ahead
seemed to be waiting for her. She led the pony toward the trail. "Did he
do it?" she asked as she caught up with Collie.
"No," he muttered. "Red's the squarest pal on earth. Red tried to save
the guy--out there on the desert. Gave him all the water we had, pretty
near. He dassent to give him all, for because he was afraid it would
kill him. The guy fell and hit his head on the rail. Red said he was
dyin' on his feet, anyway. Then Red lugged me clean to that tank where
you seen us from the train. I was all in. I guess Red saved my life. He
didn't tell you that."
"Is he--was he really a cowboy? Can he ride?" asked Louise.
"Can he ride? Say, I seen him ride Cyclone once and get first money for
ridin' the worst buckin' bronc' at the rodeo, over to Tucson. Well, I
guess!"
"Boyar, my pony, is the fastest pony in the hills," said Louise
pensively.
"What you givin' us?" said the boy, glancing at her sharply.
"Nothing. I was merely imagining something."
"Red's square," asserted the boy.
"Sheriff Tenlow is a splendid shot," murmured Louise, with apparent
irrelevance.
They had crossed the meadow. Ahead of the sheriff walked Overland, his
slouch gone, his head carried high.
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