Throw that six-shooter over there in the brush, will you ?" "I hate to get the barrel all sanded up," Lone objected mildly.

"You can pack it, can't you ?" He grinned a little as he handed out the gun, muzzle toward himself.

"You're playing safe, Swan, but if that dog of yours is any good, you'll have a change of heart pretty quick.

Isn't that a man's track, just beside that flat rock?
Put the dog on, why don't you ?" "Yack is on already," Swan pointed out.

"Ride ahead of me, Lone." With a shrug of his shoulders Lone obeyed, following the dog as it trotted through the brush on the trail of a man's footprints which Swan had shown it.