It was something to think over,
something to warm his heart, but for the present it had
absolutely to be forgotten so that all his mind could be
addressed to the trip so fraught with danger.
He carried only his rifle, revolver, and a small quantity of
bread and meat, and thus lightly burdened, he made swift progress
down the slope and out into the valley. Darkness was coming on,
and he welcomed it. Stars were blinking when he reached his old
hiding-place in the split of canyon wall, and by their aid he
slipped through the dense thickets to the grassy enclosure.
Wrangle stood in the center of it with his head up, and he
appeared black and of gigantic proportions in the dim light.
Venters whistled softly, began a slow approach, and then called.
The horse snorted and, plunging away with dull, heavy sound of
hoofs, he disappeared in the gloom. "Wilder than ever!" muttered
Venters. He followed the sorrel into the narrowing split between
the walls, and presently had to desist because he could not see a
foot in advance. As he went back toward the open Wrangle jumped
out of an ebony shadow of cliff and like a thunderbolt shot huge
and black past him down into the starlit glade. Deciding that all
attempts to catch Wrangle at night would be useless, Venters
repaired to the shelving rock where he had hidden saddle and
blanket, and there went to sleep.
The first peep of day found him stirring, and as soon as it was
light enough to distinguish objects, he took his lasso off his
saddle and went out to rope the sorrel.
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