e in the attempt. From that moment their attitude
toward Slone changed as subtly as had come the knowledge of his feeling.
The gravity and gloom left their faces. It seemed they might have
regretted what they had said about the futility of catching Wildfire.
They did not want Slone to see or feel the hopelessness of his task.

"I tell you, Lin," said Bill, "your hoss Nagger's as good as when we
started."

"Aw, he's better," vouchsafed the other rider. "Nagger needed to lose
some weight. Lin, have you got an extra set of shoes for him?"

"No full set. Only three left," replied Lin, soberly.

"Wal, thet's enough. You can keep Nagger shod. An' _mebbe_ thet red
stallion will get sore feet an' go lame. Then you'd stand a chance."

"But Wildfire keeps travelin' the valleys--the soft ground," said Slone.

"No matter. He's leavin' the country, an' he's bound to strike sandstone
sooner or later. Then, by gosh! mebbe he'll wear off them hoofs."

"Say, can't he ring bells offen the rocks?" exclaimed Bill.

"Boys, do you think he's leavin' the country?" inquired Slone,
anxiously.

"Sure he is," replied Bill. "He ain't the first stallion I've chased off
the Sevier range. An' I know. It's a stallion thet makes for new
country, when you push him hard."

"Yep, Lin, he's sure leavin'," added the other comrade. "Why, he's
traveled a bee line for days! I'll bet he's seen us many a time.
Wildfire's about as smart as any man. He was born wild, an' his dam was
born wild, an' there you have it. The wildest of all wild creatures--a
wild stallion, with the intelligence of a man! A grand hoss, Lin, but
one thet has killed stallions all over the Sevier range. A wild
stallion thet's a killer! I never liked him for thet. Could he be
broke?"

"I'll break him," said Lin Slone, grimly. "It's gettin' him thet's the
job. I've got patience to break a hoss. But patience can't catch a
streak of lightnin'."

"Nope; you're right," replied Bill. "If you have some luck you'll get
him--mebbe. If he wears out his feet, or if you crowd him into a narrow
canyon, or run him into a bad place where he can't get by you. Thet might
happen. An' then, with Nagger, you stand a chance. Did you ever tire
thet hoss?"

"Not yet."

"An' how fur did you ever run him without a break? Why, when we ketched
thet sorrel last year I rode Nagger myself--thirty miles, most at a hard
gallop. An' he never turned a hair!"

"I've beat thet," replied Lin. "He could run ha