"
"I'm with you in the fling of a cow's tail. Come on, boys."
"I think not. You and I will go alone."
"Just as you say. Reilly, I guess you better saddle Two-step and
the Lazy B roan."
"I ain't saddling ponies for Mr. Leroy," returned Reilly, with
thick defiance.
Neil was across the room in two strides. "When I tell you to do a
thing, jump! Get a move on and saddle those broncs."
"I don't know as--"
"Vamos!"
Reilly sullenly slouched out.
"I see you made them jump," commented the former captain audibly,
seating himself comfortably on a rock. "It's the only way you'll
get along with them. See that they come to time or pump lead into
them. You'll find there's no middle way."
Neil and Leroy had hardly passed beyond the rock-slide before the
others, suspicion awake in their sodden brains, dodged after them
on foot. For three miles they followed the broncos as the latter
picked their way up the steep trail that led to the Dalriada
Mine.
"If Mr. Collins is here, he's lying almighty low," exclaimed
Neil, as he swung from his pony at the foot of the bluff from the
brow of which the gray dump of the mine straggled down like a
Titan's beard.
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