self, could have been more welcome. It
was the signal suspended every night from the front bow of the wagon, to
guide the men whenever they needed guidance.

Confident that someone would be found at that point who could give him
the important news he was seeking, Avon rode thither on a dead run. He
saw no one stirring as he galloped up. The cook, who had charge of the
wagon, was asleep, and the men off duty were slumbering soundly, while
the chance was theirs.

But young Burnet had scarcely checked his mustang, when the sound of
someone riding his horse equally fast reached his ear, and the next
instant Oscar Gleeson dashed beside him.

"Howdy, Baby, is that you?" he asked, peering at the young man dimly
seen in the scant yellow rays of the lantern.

"Yes, Ballyhoo," was the reply; "I'm in trouble."

"What is it?"

"I've lost the herd."

The Texan shook in his saddle with laughter.

"That's me, too; the first thing I knowed they was gone. I yelled for
you, but you couldn't have heard me, and, after cantering round awhile,
I struck for the wagon in quest of news."

Avon drew a sigh of relief, and with a smile:

"I'm glad you lost them, for the boys won't laugh at you, while they
would at me."

"I don't think there's anyone in that crowd that will laugh, for they
all had the same experience. I know Old Bronze and Short Stop have lost
a herd more than once."

"It won't do to stay here," remarked Avon, "for you know there is
another herd only a mile off, and if the two become mixed, it will be a
big job to cut out ours to-morrow."

"I shouldn't wonder," replied Gleeson, "if the cattle have gone back to
the bed-ground; at any rate we'll look for them there."

The return to the wagon enabled the couple to obtain their bearings, and
they knew the proper course to reach the spot, but the possibility of
the theory being wrong caused them to separate, so as to proceed thither
by routes which, while substantially parallel, were so far apart that
they were out of each other's sight and hearing, the latter being
chiefly due to the direction of the wind.

Avon spurred Thunderbolt into an easy canter, the soft grass making the
travel easy, though there was always the risk of his animal sinking one
or more of his hoofs into a hole, with the prospect of a broken leg for
the horse and a dislocated neck for his rider.

When it seemed to the latter that he had passed the intervening
distance, he drew his mustang to a w