they ain't been grainin' their own on the trip."

"We didn't see any signs of their horses being turned loose anywhere
along," Lite pointed out with a calm confidence that he was right.

Still, they followed the footprints even though they were beginning
to admit with perfect frankness their uneasiness. They were swinging
gradually toward one of those isolated bumps of red rockridges which you
will find scattered at random through certain parts of the southwest.
Perhaps they held some faint hope that what lay on the other side of the
ridge would be more promising, just as we all find ourselves building
air-castles upon what lies just over the horizon which divides present
facts from future possibilities. Besides, these flat-faced ledges
frequently formed a sharp dividing line between barren land and fertile,
and the hoofprints led that way; so it was with a tacit understanding
that they would see what lay beyond the ridge that they rode forward.

Suddenly Applehead, eyeing the rocks speculatively, turned his head
suddenly to look behind and to either side like one who seeks a way of
escape from sudden peril.

"Don't make no quick moves, boys," he said, waving one gloved band
nonchalantly toward the flat land from which they were turning, "but
foller my lead 'n' angle down into that draw off here. Mebbe it's deep
enough to put us outa sight, 'n' mebbe it ain't. But we'll try it."

"What's up? What did yuh see?" Pink and Weary spoke in a duet, urging
their horses a little closer.

"You fellers keep back thar 'n' don't act excited!" Applehead eyed them
sternly over his shoulder. "I calc'late we're just about t' walk into
a trap." He bent--on the side away from the ridge--low over his horse's
shoulder and spoke while he appeared to be scanning the ground. "I seen
gun-shine up among them rocks, er I'm a goat. 'N' if it's Navvies, you
kin bet they got guns as good as ours, and kin shoot mighty nigh as
straight as the best of us--except Lite, uh course, that's a expert." He
pointed aimlessly at the ground and edged toward the draw.

"Ef they think we're jest follerin' a stray track, they'll likely
hold off till we git back in the trail 'n' start comin' on agin," he
explained craftily, still pointing at the ground ahead of him and still
urging his horse to the draw. "Ef they suspicion 't we're shyin' off
from the ridge, they'll draw a fine bead 'n' cut loose. I knowed it,"
he added with a lugubrious complacency. "I told