But what could they do with them there?
Where could they hide them?
He had searched every foot of the home place himself that day for the two of Old Man Conlan, and had found not so much as a sheltered gulch, a hidden pocket.
What, then, could Cattle Kate do with such a bunch as was coming up her trail now?
Sheriff Selwood had food for thought but little time to use it. He had only time for decision, and for the action which was to follow swiftly on that decision.
As the cattle came up the slope, pushed by the many horsemen who completely encircled them, they left a broad trail, their tracks all going upward—all this passed through his racing mind.
What was to prevent him or any one else from riding straight up to their destination by broad daylight?
And then on the heels of this question came like a flash of light on a dark curtain that old coincidence in time!
When that ninety head had vanished Kate Cathrew had been driving down—driving down from Sky Line—three hundred head, head of her own stock, all open and above board, properly branded clear and fair!
Three hundred head of steers whose moiling hoofs, going down, would trample out all trace of ninety going up!