The pony sniffed at his crumpled
sombrero.
"That horse is plumb gentle," said Collie. "Look at her!"
"Crazy with the heat," commented Billy Dime, jerking his thumb toward
Collie.
Tall, slim, slow of movement, Collie slipped from the corral bars and
secured the dangling reins. Across the utter silence came the whistle of
a viewless hawk. The cowmen awakened from their momentary apathy. Two of
them carried Jasper Lane toward the ranch-house. Some one laughed.
Gleason, the superintendent, gazed at the outlaw pony and fingered his
belt. "That's the fourth!" he said slowly and distinctly. "She ain't
worth it."
"The fourth Oro rider," said a voice. "You ain't countin' any Moonstone
riders."
"Ain't seen any to count," retorted Gleason, and there was a general
laugh.
Strangely enough, the outlaw pony followed Collie quietly as he led her
toward Gleason, "The boys say there's a bet up that nobody can stick on
her two minutes. She's the bet. Is that right?" said Collie.
"What you goin' to do?" queried Gleason, and some of the Oro boys
laughed.
"I don't know yet," said Collie. "Maybe I'll take her back to the
Moonstone with me."
Miguel of the Moonstone removed his sombrero and gravely passed it.
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