it a short distance in the dewy morning he had noticed that
something attached to the animal was trailing. A closer examination
was made, and he decided that it was a bridle rein and not a rope that
was attached to the wandering horse. From the freshness of the trail,
he felt positive that he would overtake the animal shortly, but after
finding him some difficulty was encountered before the horse would
allow himself to be caught. He apologized for his neglect of duty,
considering the incident as nothing unusual, and I had not the heart
even to scold him. There were letters in the pocket of the coat,
from which the owner was identified, and on arriving at Abilene
the pleasure was mine of returning the horse and accoutrements and
receiving a twenty-dollar gold piece for my wrangler. A stampede of
trail cattle had occurred some forty miles to the northwest but a few
nights before our finding the horse, during which the herd ran into
some timber, and a low-hanging limb unhorsed the foreman, the animal
escaping until captured by my man.

On approaching Fort Worth, still traveling slowly on account of the
lateness of the spring, I decided to pay a flying visit to Palo Pinto
County. It was fully eighty miles from the Fort across to the Edwards
ranch, and appointing one of my old men as segundo, I saddled my best
horse and set out an hour before sunset. I had made the same ride four
years previously on coming to the country, a cool night favored my
mount, and at daybreak I struck the Brazos River within two miles of
the ranch. An eventful day followed; I reeled off innocent white-faced
lies by the yard, in explaining the delightful winter I had spent with
my brother in Missouri. Fortunately the elder Edwards was not driving
any cattle that year, and George was absent buying oxen for a Fort
Griffin freighter. Good reports of my new ranch awaited me, my
cattle were increasing, and the smile of prosperity again shed its
benediction over me. No one had located any lands near my little
ranch, and the coveted addition on the west was still vacant and
unoccupied. The silent monitor within my breast was my only accuser,
but as I rode away from the Edwards ranch in the shade of evening,
even it was silenced, for I held the promise of a splendid girl to
become my wife. A second sleepless night passed like a pleasant dream,
and early the next morning, firmly anchored in resolutions that no
vagabond friends could ever shake, I overtook my