Now he sat in tedious silence, listening to the night sounds, unaware that any one was out from Sky Line, since Caldwell and his companions had dropped diagonally down the slope in their going, passing far above him.
For an hour he sat, slouching sidewise in his saddle, his hat pulled over his eyes. The bay horse stood in hip-dropped rest, drowsing comfortably.
It was well after midnight, judging by the stars in the dark sky, when Selwood suddenly held the breath he was drawing into his lungs.
He had heard a cattle-brute bawl.
For a moment he was still as death.
Then he straightened up, every nerve taut.
He heard the sounds of cattle, the crack of whips, the unmistakable commotion of moving bodies. As it all came nearer below him he caught the swish and splash of water, and knew he was at last witnessing a raid of rustlers, one of the mysterious “disappearances” which had puzzled all the Deep Heart country for so long.
He wished fervently that Smith were with him—that Bossick and Jermyn and all the rest were there.
His heart was beating hard and to save his life he could not help the excitement which took hold upon him.
And presently he heard, directly beneath him where Kate Cathrew’s trail crossed Nameless, the trample and crack of a myriad hoofs taking to the rocky slope. The riders were turning the steers up toward Sky Line Ranch!